


Lashes

by savvy1967



Category: Red Dead Redemption
Genre: Angst, Discussions of PTSD, F/M, Fluff, Native American OC, Original Character(s), Period-Typical Racism, Racist Language, bill is written as bi in this, bill williamson redemption, lakota oc
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-28
Updated: 2019-02-19
Packaged: 2019-09-29 03:25:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 18
Words: 61,945
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17195618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/savvy1967/pseuds/savvy1967
Summary: Bill Williamson is a racist asshole. Everyone knows it. They just punch him and go on about their day. When a Lakota woman joins the gang, everyone expects things to go on as normal, slurs and all, and for a time, it does. But her curiosity gets the better of her, and she finds that hatred is something learned - which means it can be unlearned, if given time, care, and patience. And she has plenty of those… the first two, anyway.(also posted on my Tumblr)





	1. Chapter 1

The night was cold, and the ropes around Wicapiwakan’s wrists cut all the more for it. She had been tied to a post since mid-afternoon, and no food or water had been offered to her. Just another day with the United States Army.

They captured her about a week before, just trying to hunt for her people. They made claims that she was on land that didn’t belong to her; that hunting on that land was considered poaching and was illegal. She had lived in the area her entire life, and she had hunted on that land many times before. While it was possible that some new treaty had been made, ceding the land to the government, she suspected it was nothing more than an excuse to take her in.

She hadn’t even managed to get any message back to her people before the soldiers tied her up and dragged her off. The only emotion matching her rage was her worry for them. They were a small group of Lakota, split off from the rest during a clash with the army some time back. She and two others had been the only ones capable of hunting and defending the party. Now they were down a bow, and she feared for them.

Her stomach grumbled quietly, and she gave it a frown. Now was not the time to complain. It wouldn’t do to show any sign of weakness in front of the soldiers. While she did not know what they planned for her, she knew it was nothing good, and more than once she had caught various members of the unit staring in a very unsavory way. She needed to get out of this camp.

Lights and shadows shifted as the moon moved across the sky. The soldiers ate and drank and eventually slept, leaving Wicapiwakan to herself. That, at least, was a blessing. As the night wore on, however, she began to grow weary of her restraints. It was hard to sleep peacefully sitting straight up, hands behind your back, wrists bleeding lightly into the dirt around you. What she wouldn’t give for a little sleep.

Just as she began to nod off slightly, she heard a noise that immediately brought her back to consciousness. The steps of many reached her, but she recognized immediately that these steps did not belong to anyone that belonged in the camp. They were too quiet.

With a cry, the natives surrounding the camp attacked. The soldiers stood no chance in their drunken state. It was a bloodbath Wicapiwakan was pleased to witness.

When it was done, she called out to the braves. “My brothers! Would you be kind enough to release me?”

Their leader came over and cut her bonds. “It is good we came. I do not want to think about what they would have done with you.”

“Nor I,” she replied, standing and tenderly massaging her wrists. “Thank you. I am Wicapiwakan, of the Lakota people.”

“Well met. I am Eagle Flies, of the Wapiti.”

“Wapiti? Then you know these parts well. Tell me, have you seen a small band of Lakota? Mostly elders, women, and children.”

A shadow passed over Eagle Flies’ face that caused Wicapiwakan’s guts to twist. “We found them two days ago. They… they were slaughtered. That is why we came here.”

The twisting feeling in her middle got worse, but she did not allow it to take over her frame. Instead, her eyes slipped shut. “May peace find them.”

“I’m sorry I do not have better news. What will you do now?”

Her eyes opened again, and she took a deep breath. “I do not know.”

“You are welcome to come with us. We are returning to our village. My father is chief. He will not be pleased with what we have done here, but he will welcome you with open arms.”

“Thank you, my friend, but I think I will go it alone for now.”

“If you should change your mind, we are camped just north of Donner Falls.”

Wicapiwakan held out here hand which Eagle Flies took. “Thank you. For saving me and for avenging my people.”

“We are all one people now, united against our shared enemy. Be safe. May the Great Spirit guard your back.”

“And you.”

The Wapiti gathered up their things and made their way out of the camp. Wicapiwakan stood in her spot for a time. She did not know where to go or what to do, but she felt a tug inside that she was meant to simply go on – continue. She did not know what awaited her, but it was no use going back.

…..

Several days passed, and Wicapiwakan spent most of those days wandering south along the Dakota River. She easily avoided any troops making their way to and from Fort Wallace, and once she got to Cumberland Falls, she began to relax bit.

One afternoon, as she was spear fishing in the river, two horses blew past her, splashing water all over her, and frightening every fish in the river. “HEY!” she roared at the two men. The leader, an unpleasant looking white man on a black horse paid her no mind. The younger, black man riding behind him threw an apologetic look over his shoulder, but ultimately said nothing. She stared daggers at their retreating forms, then muttered under her breath about the bullishness of white men.

Given that fishing was now a lost cause, she removed herself from the river and sat on its bank, snacking on some berries. About an hour passed of lazing by the water, and then she heard the approach of several wagons. Fearing another patrol, she slipped behind a bush to see.

It turned out to be a caravan of curious folk. There were men and women, at least one child, and a mix of skin tones. That alone intrigued her. What sort of people had no qualms about such things? She thought about the pair that had ridden through earlier and realized that they must have been the scouts. Her unfortunate tendency towards brashness caused her to step out from behind the bush and yell, “I was nearly run over by two fools some time ago. Were they yours?”

“WOAH!” The lead wagon pulled to a stop, and the rest followed suit. A man in a black, fluffy coat held the reins and he replied, “Depends. What kind of fools are we talkin’ about?”

“Tall, blonde, ugly white man. Young black man with kind eyes.”

The large, balding man sitting next to the first laughed slightly. “Sounds like ours.”

“Indeed it does. Madam, I am sorry for their rudeness. It is inexcusable.” He hopped down from the wagon and came to her. “My name is Dutch van der Linde, and I am in charge of this rabble. Those men were Micah Bell and Lenny Summers, and they are under my charge.” He extended a hand which Wicapiwakan took tentatively. “Please accept my sincerest apologies.”

Her dark eyes met his, and she tried very hard to read him. There was a mix of feelings coming from this man. Above all else, he was a charmer, and thus, he was not to be fully trusted. “Apology accepted.”

“If I may ask, what are you doin’ out here all alone?”

She shrugged. “Army killed my people. I am… searching for purpose.”

Sympathy crossed his face and his eyes fell. “I am sorry to hear that.” He looked back and gestured to his caravan. “We are all lost souls here.”

She crossed her arms over her chest. “You’re a gang.”

His eyes came back to her, accompanied by a smirk. “Yes.”

A breeze blew through her hair, and she took a deep breath. The tug that had driven her forward before was back, though she still did not understand what sort of destination she was headed for. “Do you have room for another lost soul, Dutch van der Linde?”

He gave her an appraising look, then turned back to his gang. They all seemed to be willing to accept his word on the matter. “I don’t see why not.”

…..

Wicapiwakan spent most of the ride to the gang’s new campsite in the rear wagon. It was driven by a man named Arthur Morgan and contained two passengers: Hosea Matthews and Charles Smith. All three men had been welcoming and gave off an air of warmth and safety. Charles also had native blood, and she was quick to attach to him.

Once they arrived in a place they called Horseshoe Overlook, Wicapiwakan climbed down from the wagon and asked the woman giving orders what she could do to help.

“Well, dear…. what’s your name again?”

“Wicapiwakan, but…”

Suddenly, a loud voice dripping in contempt called, “What kind of name is Wa-cappy-wican?”

The woman felt tension spread up her back and neck, but she bit back her angry retort, instead turning to face the speaker. He was a brute of man, about half a head taller than her, wearing plaid under a big brown coat. His hat was pulled down low on his head which made him seem like nothing more than a floating beard.

“Lakota.”

He sniggered. “Right.”

“In your language, my name is Holy Star, but given that nothing holy has likely ever passed lips such as yours, sir, you may call me Star.”

The man seemed taken aback, then mumbled something about not being spoken to that way by an Injun Squaw. Wicapiwakan felt her blood boil, and she took a step to retaliate, but Arthur came up behind the man and smacked him up upside the head. “That ain’t no way to talk to a guest, Bill, you dumb heathen. Get outta here.”

Bill scurried off, and Arthur came to stand with the two women. “Sorry ‘bout him. He’s… rough and stupid. Says shit like that to Javier and Charles too. They mostly just throw him on his ass. Works well enough.”

“I was going to, had you not stepped in.”

“Oh, if he does it again, please be my guest and lay him out. You won’t get in no trouble. Dutch knows how Bill can be.”

A smile touched the woman’s lips. “Appreciate it.”

The older woman, Susan Grimshaw, put Wicapiwakan to work setting up the horses. It was work she was well suited to, and in no time, the animals were fed, watered, and comfortable. After that, Dutch asked to speak with her in his tent.

At first, she had thought to be nervous, but when she walked in, the air around the man did not lend itself to such feelings. Somehow, she was immediately at ease with him. “You wanted to speak to me?”

“Yes. Arthur said somethin’ to me 'bout you goin’ by Star?”

“Sure. Be easier for everyone, way I see it.”

“It ain’t because of what Bill said?”

She shook her head. “He’s not the first white man to mock my name, and he will not be the last. Believe me, I know that my name is a bit of a mouthful for those unaccustomed to our language. I have used Star in the past. It’s no bother to me.”

“Alright. I just wanted to make sure. I want everyone here to be comfortable.”

“Thank you, Dutch.”

He nodded, then gestured for her to follow him, so she did. He led her to the edge of the overlook, paused, and sighed. “Listen. You’ve joined this gang at a time of upheaval. We’ve just come from Blackwater. Our last job there… it went… very poorly. We lost people, and we have no money. Things are going to be rough around here for some time.”

“Can’t be much worse than what I was already doing.”

“We are wanted men. All of us. Me most of all.”

“Yeah, well… the color of my skin makes me wanted around these parts. Whatever it is you’ve done – whatever they’re hunting you for… they’ve done worse to my people.”

A soft smile appeared on Dutch’s face. “I hate to say it, but you are right.” He put a hand on her shoulder. “I just wanted you to know what you’d gotten yourself into.”

She returned his smile. “Running from the law and dealing with a racist asshole or two is just a normal day for me. I’ll fit in.”

“I have faith you will. Come on. Let’s see if we can find some food around here.”

The night passed easily, and Star found her new companions to be a decent bunch. They were all exhausted after their ordeal, but they welcomed her and asked after her. Charles became a lingering presence, and Star felt very distinctly that she had become something he needed to protect. It made her smile.

When people started drifting off to bed, she was shown to a bedroll between two of the other women: Karen and Mary-Beth. Karen fell asleep almost immediately, but Mary-Beth rolled over to face Star with a look of curiosity. “How come you wanted to join a gang of outlaws?” she whispered.

Star shrugged. “I just… had a feeling. I didn’t want to be alone anymore.”

“Oh. I am sorry that your people died. It ain’t right, the way you get treated.”

“No. It isn’t.” Star sighed. “But thank you.”

Mary-Beth nodded and pat Star’s hand. “You get some sleep, now.”

It took a while, but Star finally found sleep. It was one of the most restful nights she had had in a very long time.


	2. Chapter 2

Several weeks passed with the gang. It was like watching all of them slowly wake up. Everyone’s eyes began to sparkle again, and they laughed with one another. Star found her place easily, fitting in better with the men of the camp. She frequently rode out with Charles to hunt, and he became a big brother she did not know she wanted. Arthur stopped to check on her whenever he was around, making sure that no one was giving her any trouble. Dutch and Hosea were quick to praise when she brought back food from the hunt, and the cook, Pearson, was always grateful.

Though she interacted less with the women, they were still all very friendly, and she liked them. Except for Molly O'Shea. There was something about the Irish woman that made one feel inferior, and Star was wary of that.

Ultimately, things were going well. Even Bill Williamson, the brute that he was, had started to warm up to her a bit. He still said shitty things when he was drunk, which was often, but Star had near broken his nose one night around the fire, so he had stopped saying it within earshot.

Star quickly earned the right to travel around alone as long as she checked back in with the gang regularly. It felt strange, but she had found more respect among these Van Der Linde Boys than she had in much of the “civilized” world. As long as she did her part and stayed loyal, she was free to be whoever she wanted to be.

One afternoon, she was in Valentine selling some of her pelts to the local butcher when she heard a commotion coming from the saloon. She collected her money, then made her way there to see if anything interesting was happening. The fight going on inside was interesting enough, but when Bill Williamson came flying through the swinging doors into the street, it got even more so.

“I don’t wanna see your ugly mug in the place again, ya hear?!” the bartender shouted from the doorway. “You caused me enough trouble as it is. You and your friends.” With that, he spun and went back inside. The big man who had thrown Bill gave a dark look, then did the same.

A small crowd had gathered, but they scattered when Bill started roaring at them. “Watchu lookin’ at? Ain’t got nothin’ better ta do than stare at a fella in the mud?”

Star made her way to him, grinning. “They might, but I haven’t.”

As soon as he saw her, Bill huffed a frustrated sigh. “'Course it’d be you.” He fought his way to his feet, clearly having found something to drink before foolishly wandering into the saloon. “What’re you doin’ here anyway?”

“Work,” she replied, holding up her little bag of money. “Unlike some people.”

He snarled and spun on his heel, marching off towards Brown Jack. “You’re a real pain in the ass, woman.”

“It is my goal in life.” She followed after him, unconcerned with all his bluster. “Are you going back to camp?”

“Why?”

“Because I walked to town. Wouldn’t mind a ride.”

“What makes you think I’d give you one?”

A long suffering sigh came out as Star put a hand on Brown Jack’s neck. “Nothing. Just thought I’d ask. But nevermind. I’ll find my own way back.” She pat the horse, then walked around Bill.

As she walked, she heard some sort of confused exclamation from him, but she ignored it until she found Brown Jack walking beside her with Bill on top. “You really just gonna walk all the way back?” he grumbled.

“I am not in the habit of stealing horses. Not even from drunks. So, yes.” She continued on, full of confidence, and fueled by knowing just how much she was baffling him.

“Will you just…. god damn it, just get on the horse!” he snapped, holding out a hand for her.

She paused, fighting a smile, then turned and took his hand. He pulled his foot from the stirrup so she could get a leg up. Once she was sitting atop Brown Jack there was a pause. “You ain’t gonna hold on?” Bill asked.

Star gave him a look. “Lakota ride without a saddle. If you think I need to hold on to you to stay upright…”

“Alright, alright. Snobby bitch. Jesus. But if you go flyin’ off, I ain’t comin’ back for ya.”

“Deal.”

He kicked Brown Jack into a trot, and true to her word, Star barely wavered. Bill grumbled about it to himself, and she just grinned. It was far too easy and far too fun to rile him.

As the pair rode down the road, the sun turned towards setting. Star looked around at the country around them, finding herself transfixed by the beauty of it. If she could live in the Heartlands forever she would. She had heard Dutch talking about his plans to take the gang west, and while the idea was interesting, she wasn’t sure if she could bring herself to leave.

In the midst of her musings, Star didn’t see the snake. Neither did Bill, apparently, because Brown Jack panicked and leaped sideways, jostling both riders violently. When everything had settled, Star realized that her arms had wrapped around Bill’s torso. Her forehead had also slammed into his back, and he had winced away from her.

“You’re hurt?” she asked as Bill comforted his horse.

“’m fine.” He looked down at her arms and laughed. “So much for all that talk, then, huh?”

“Shut up. Let’s just get back.”

“Yes, ma'am, your high and mightyness.”

The rest of the ride back was uneventful and quiet. Once in camp, Star slid down from Brown Jack and waited for Bill to do the same. “What happened to your back?” she asked.

“Nothin’! Get!” He shooed her, then stalked off.

Star stood there a moment, then defiantly followed him. “Why are you such a stubborn brute?” she demanded. “I just want to help.”

“I don’t need help from some injun!” he spat over his shoulder.

If he had seen her eyes flash, he would have started running. In moments, she had crashed into his lower back, tackling him to the dirt. He yelped in pain, then started fighting back like an angry dog. His fist caught her jaw, her foot slammed into his gut, his elbow caught her collarbone. It was a mess.

“Enough!! Break it up! God’s sakes, you two!”

Arthur grabbed Star by the back of her shirt and dragged her off of Bill. She continued kicking and punching as she went. “Thanks, Morgan,” Bill huffed, clambering onto all fours.

“Yeah, well, I’m sure you deserved it,” Arthur replied. “Get outta here before she kills ya!” With that, he pulled Star away to the other side of camp. While he waited for her to calm down, he maintained a hold on her shirt. “What the hell happened?”

Once she trusted herself not to go running off again, she shook out of his hold. “That… bastard is just… what the hell is his problem?! It’s fucking bullshit! Asshole!” She yelled the last part across the camp, earning her a disapproving look from Ms. Grimshaw.

“I told ya. Bill is just rough and stupid.”

“That’s no excuse to be racist as shit, Arthur. It’s not. He’s clearly got a problem with my people. Mexicans too. Anyone who isn’t white, really.”

“It ain’t that. I mean… I don’t know. He only says it when he’s drunk.”

“That doesn’t make it ok! Just because he can control himself… it’s not ok.”

“I know. I know it ain’t.” Arthur sighed, hooking his thumbs through his belt. “Look… he ain’t gonna tell you this, but… he was in the army.”

Star bristled. “ _Of course_  he was.”

“Cavalry. He got kicked out.”

That surprised her. “How?”

“Don’t know for sure. He just… he was.”

She paused, dark eyes meeting Arthur’s blue. “What’s your point?”

“My point is that maybe… maybe his problems with people comes from that. I didn’t know him before that time, but maybe he got taught all that shit. You know better than anyone how the army is. I dunno. Bill is an ignorant fool, but it seems to me that maybe his bark is worse than his bite.”

“Don’t know about that,” she murmured, rubbing her jaw where Bill’s fist had connected.

“I don’t either. I don’t like that he says the things he does, but ain’t none of us figured out how to get him to stop.”

“In any case, it looks like beating it out of him isn’t working.”

“Right.”

Arthur bid Star goodnight and made his way back into camp. She stood in the trees for a while longer, then made her way to her bedroll. She sat on it moodily, wrapping her arms around her legs. From there, she spied on Bill as he wandered around the camp, downing more alcohol. Most everyone ignored him, probably having heard about what happened.

Finally, he placed himself on a box some distance from the fire, facing the overlook. He shifted and flinched, reaching to rub at his shoulder. Star sighed heavily, then rooted through her things for a salve she had made to soothe aches and pains. As she stood up and began crossing the distance between her and Bill, she marveled at her own stupidity.

“Hey,” she greeted when she reached him.

His head snapped around, and he scowled. “Whadda you want?”

She held out the salve. “To help.”

He eyed it with confused distrust. “What is it?”

“Just a poultice. It helps with pain. I… I made it.”

His eyes traveled between the container in her hand and her eyes. Finally, after a long moment, his gaze softened slightly. “What… what do I do with it?”

A quiet amusement crossed Star’s face. “You, um… you put it on wherever it hurts. Here, take your shirt off.” He shied away from her, and she froze, hand hovering over his shoulders. “Or don’t. But it’ll get your shirt messy.”

He heaved a sigh and started unbuttoning his blue, plaid shirt. Star waited patiently, and when his shoulders and back were exposed, she turned her attentions to them… and gaped. Scars littered his skin all up and down his back. Long, ugly scars. She’d seen them before. “Lashes?” she whispered as her fingers breezed over them.

“If yer gonna stare…”

“Stop, stop,” she urged, putting out a hand to keep him from pulling his shirt back up. “I’m sorry.” The salve was chilly on her fingers, and as she started to apply it to his shoulders, he flinched away slightly as well.

“Jesus,” he whispered. “You make that shit out of snow?”

“No,” she chuckled. “It’s the mint. It’ll help, I promise.”

In a few moments, Bill had almost completely relaxed under her touch. She focused her efforts on the tension in his shoulders, but her eyes lingered on his scars. She had seen the same marks on men in her village when they didn’t do something the army wanted them to do. Little had she known that they treated their own with the same disdain.

“There,” she said when she was done. “That should help.”

He shrugged his shirt back up, buttoning it as best he could given his intoxication. “Er… thanks. Sorry about… about what I said. And hittin’ ya.”

Star took a steadying breath, then asked, “Why do you hate us?”

He looked away from her and took another swig from the bottle in his hand. “I don’t.”

“Then, why…?”

He sat in silence for a moment, then quickly staggered up. “Goodnight, Star.”

She let him wander off to his bed, more confused and conflicted now than when she had started. Whatever Bill was hiding, it really seemed to hurt him, and his preferred method of dealing with that pain was lashing out. Maybe it was a fool’s mission, but Star decided right then and there to find out what it was that was hurting Bill Williamson so deeply, and, if she could, destroy it.


	3. Chapter 3

Another couple of weeks passed, and Star fell back into her usual routine, though she kept an eye on Bill. He seemed to be avoiding her, and she couldn’t blame him. He had shown a great deal of vulnerability to her that night, and he probably needed to recover from that, so she maintained a respectful distance, mostly just waiting to see what would happen.

Charles told her it was a lost cause – that Bill would never see past his small-mindedness. She knew that was a possibility, but something about him didn’t feel that black and white. Her instinct about him was to protect him, and that was baffling considering everything.

One thing she did notice was that every single person in the camp seemed willing to make Bill the butt of their joke. All of them. And he took it. He either laughed it off, unconvincingly, or brushed it off and went on. That was troubling, but telling.

The next big event for the gang was the return of Sean MacGuire. Star had no idea what to expect when Arthur, Javier, and Charles rode off to rescue the Irishman, but somehow, when they showed up with him in tow, it all just fit. Sean was loud, boisterous, and funny. Not to mention a huge flirt.

“Who is this beauty?!” he cried when he first laid eyes on Star. “Is this who ye replaced me with? Hell, I’ll turn around and go.”

She laughed and shook his hand. “Call me Star. I take it you’re Sean.”

“Aye, that’s me. Good ole Sean MacGuire, back and ready to rumble.”

“I hope captivity didn’t take too much of a toll.”

“Nah. I’m alright. Knew these boys would come for me sooner or later. Didn’t know they’d have a present for me when I got back though,” he said with a wink.

Star rolled her eyes. “Easy, pretty boy. You aren’t my type.”

He pouted. “No? Then what is?”

It was easy enough to brush him off, especially since Karen’s arms were waiting for him anyway. When Dutch announced a night of celebration, Star fond herself both intrigued and perturbed. Parties were not her forte, and yet they offered excellent opportunities for people watching – which is exactly what she did.

As the camp erupted into music and laughter, Star took a bottle of beer with her to a secluded little log and sat watching everyone. It was more fun for her that way, and she learned things about her companions as a bonus.

Of course, as alcohol began to flow, people grew less willing to let her linger in the shadows. They pulled her into conversations, hooked her into the punchlines of jokes she didn’t hear the beginning of, and mostly just insisted on including her. It made her heart feel very full. Boy, did she love this gang.

As the night wore on, Star drank more and more, not really realizing how much she was imbibing. She wandered over to one of the fires where Hosea, Lenny, Pearson, John, and Bill had gathered. As she arrived, Bill began to speak.

“You know, when I was in the army, fellers would spend all night talkin’ about what they were gonna do the second they left the army. All kinds of things. Like ‘I’m gonna go off and be a cook.’ Or 'I’m gonna go out and find me a wife.’ Hell, someone was like 'I’m gonna go and dance with the finest whore in San Francisco.’ Some shit like that. You know how fellers is,” he chuckled.

Then, after a pause, he went on. “But, you know what every one of them did the second they left the army? JOINED THE GOD DAMN ARMY AGAIN. Jesus Christ! I mean, here is a group of fellers that spent every wakin’ minute just dreamin’ of leaving. And… and then they left. And then they jumped back in again! Stupid! You know what? That taught me somethin’… and-and-and it taught me somethin’ I’ll never forget. And that is that most fellers are sheep. That’s right. And if you can tell the difference… be-between a man and-and…. and a sheep, well…. that makes you a better man than me. And that’s all I’m sayin’. Mark my words. All a'ya.”

He trailed off into silence for a moment before finishing with, “Stupid army.”

Star stood there, vision a little too fuzzy and thoughts a little too blurry, and then she blurted, “Fuck the army. Army k-killed everyone… everyone I had. Tied me to a post. Treated me like a god damn animal. Woulda raped me. Probably killed me. Certainly starved me.”

All of the men’s gazes had come to rest on her, and she very abruptly felt shy about speaking in front of them, so she murmured, “Stupid army.”

There was a lull, then Bill pointed at her and cried, “See! Motherfuckin’ army.”

“Didn’t nobody doubt ya, Bill,” Hosea pointed out, smiling a bit.

“Tha’s… tha’s not true, though,” Star, stammered, unable to realize the ramifications of what she was about to say. “All of yous doubt him. You… you make fun of him. You call him dumb and say he isn’t smart enough to know things. I seen you. All a you. And that ain’t right. You… you shouldn’t treat him like that.”

The silence that greeted her was deafening. It took her brain a moment to catch up with her mouth, and when she realized what she said, her hand clapped over her lips and her eyes went wide.

John was the first to speak. “Gee, Star, tell us what you really think.”

“I… I didn’t mean…”

“You know, maybe she has a point,” Hosea chimed in quietly. “We do tend to give Bill a hard time. Maybe more than we should. Guess that’s somethin’ we oughta work on.”

“So… you’re not mad at me?”

“For speaking your mind? No, dear girl. Though, it might have come across better if you weren’t quite so drunk. Still, you make a good point. Somethin’ to think about.”

The rest of the group fell back into easy conversation after that, but Star couldn’t shake the awkwardness, so she wandered off. A few moments later, a hand grabbed hers roughly and pulled her into the trees. “What the hell?” she slurred, trying to shake her hand away. “Let go.”

“Why’d you have to go and say a thing like that?” Bill mumbled, refusing to let go of her.

“Well… 'cuz it’s true. They laugh at you all the time, and they shouldn’t.”

“That’s… that’s just the way it is around here!” he snapped.

She frowned and stopped trying to reclaim her hand. “Just because that’s how it is doesn’t mean that that’s how it should be, Bill. Like… like how you shouldn’t say the shit you say… but you do.”

His eyes lingered on their hands. “Yeah.”

“You… you’re so mean. To me and Javier and Charles and Lenny. Why are you so mean? We… I… just wanna be your friend. Unless you don’t want any friends. But I like you, and I want you to be happy, though I can’t figure out why – oop!”

Drunken kisses inevitably turn out worse than either party would have hoped, but it was still a kiss, and it nearly knocked Star on her ass from shock. Bill’s beard tickled her nose, causing her to giggle slightly. “Now you’re laughin’ at me,” he said, but it was obviously a tease.

“It tickled,” she explained anyway. “Why’d… why’d you do that?”

“'Cuz I wanted to.”

“Oh.” She looked around to see if anyone was watching, then got on her toes to kiss him in return. He wrapped an arm around her waist, holding her close. “Guess I wanted to, too,” she whispered, giggling again.

“You… you’re drunk,” he declared, very drunkenly. “You don’t laugh like that normally.”

She tipped up the rest of the bottle she hand in her hand. “Oh well. It’s a party, right?”

“You’re god damn right.” He emptied his bottle as well, then pulled her back in for another sloppy kiss.

Star wasn’t sure what was happening, but she seemed to be enjoying herself, so she decided to let it happen. What could possibly go wrong?

….

The morning sun was a rude awakening. Star’s head was pounding. Even breathing seemed to agitate it. When she finally managed to crack open an eye, she realized she was looking up at tree tops. She was in the woods somewhere near camp, on her back. “What in the hell?” she groaned.

That was when she realized she wasn’t alone because her voice stirred her companion, who then loudly cried, “SHIT!”

“Ah!” she hissed. “Shh.” It took her a moment to place the voice with the person, and when she did, she bolted upright. “Bill?!”

“Yeah, princess,” he replied grumpily. “It’s me.”

Another moment passed before she realized he didn’t have his shirt on. Which would be difficult to do given that  _she did_. The blue plaid hung off her loosely, concealing most of her body save her legs, which she was thankful for given that Bill’s shirt was the only thing she seemed to be wearing.

“Oh no,” she whispered, looking around them. There was no chance anyone from camp would have seen them, but she did worry some about  _heard_. “Oh no!”

“You don’t gotta act so pleased,” Bill spat venomously.

She turned her gaze to him and felt a mix of emotions. On one hand, she didn’t mean to be quite so horrified. On the other, drunkenly bedding  _anyone_  was way out of character for her, and she could not believe she’d done it. “Don’t be so self-absorbed,” she retorted. “It’s not about you.”

“Oh no? You mean you wanted to end up down the hill, in the woods, in the dirt  _with me_?”

“Don’t you get it? It’s all of the part before you that’s a problem! Coulda been Dutch for all I care, and I still would react the same!”

Much to her surprise, Bill’s face softened. “So… it’s really not me you’re upset about?”

She stared at him and took a moment to analyze her feelings on that matter. None of it was ideal, but she wasn’t actually upset about the company she was keeping. “It’s not you. I just…” Her shoulders slumped. “It’s a lot of things. But not you.”

“Oh.”

Very suddenly, things were awkward. Bill couldn’t seem to look at her, and she wasn’t entirely sure how to get out of his shirt to give it back. “Go… go stand over there,” she told him, pointing. “And no peeking.”

He huffed and grumbled but did as she said. She collected her clothing, most of which she seemed to be sitting on. She pulled the bottom half on first, then slid Bill’s shirt over her head. He shifted to glance over his shoulder, earning him a pine cone in the back of the head. “What did I say?!”

“Sorry!” he cried, rubbing the spot tenderly. “Jesus.”

Once dressed, Star carried Bill’s shirt to him, holding it out at a distance. “Here.”

He took it back – yanked it back, really – then pulled it on and buttoned it back up. They were left standing awkwardly after that, neither of them making eye contact or really knowing what to do. Bill’s hat was in his hands, twisting around nervously, and Star noticed for the first time just how  _unfortunate_  his forehead was. It was already slightly too tall for his face, then with his receding hairline…

“I’m gonna go that way,” she announced, pointing in the general direction of Flatneck Station. “You head back to camp now. I’ll show up… later. From over there.”

He glowered for a moment, but eventually mumbled, “Yeah, ok.”

Lacking anything better to say, Star just nodded and started off with, “Right.”

The sun was high in the sky before Star even turned back towards camp. She spent most of the walk trying to remember the night before, and only bits and pieces would come back to her. She remembered chastising a group of them for always making fun of Bill, and she remembered Bill pulling her into the woods. The kisses they shared were foggy at best, but she remembered him holding her hand for what felt like a long time – just standing there, looking vulnerable. It made her heart ache slightly. If only she could remember what she said to him.

As she trudged back into camp, Charles came rushing up to her. “Where have you been?” he murmured, checking her over for injuries.

“I don’t know. Woke up over that way. I’m fine, Charles.”

His dark eyes lingered on her with concern. “Someone said they saw Bill follow you into the woods. I was worried.”

That jostled her enough to make her feel bad for brushing him off. “He did. Just… he needed to ask me something. After that….” She shrugged. “I don’t really know what happened.” Her eyes went behind Charles to camp. “Did Bill come back?”

“Yeah. Couple hours ago. Said he hadn’t seen you. I was about to go out looking.”

The sigh that slipped from Star’s body accentuated all the soreness she had been trying to ignore. “I’m sorry. I don’t usually drink like that. I don’t remember much.”

A small smile lifted Charles’ lips. “Well… in any case, Sean would be pleased.” His smile grew when he saw Star smile too. “Come on. Let’s get you some food.”

“Thanks.”

As the afternoon wore on, Star fielded multiple questions about what had happened to her the night before. She skirted around most of it, but honestly answered that she didn’t really know. As Charles had predicted, Sean got the biggest kick out of it.

“And that’s exactly how any party in my honor should end,” he told her, clapping her on the shoulder. “I’m proud of ye.”

“Thank you,” she groaned.

Bill almost immediately started drinking again, and he went about his day pretending like Star didn’t exist. It suited her well enough. She wasn’t prepared to delve into that particular hornet’s nest. Perhaps it would be better if both of them went on as if none of it ever happened.


	4. Chapter 4

In the aftermath of Sean’s party and her drunken hook-up with Bill Williamson, Star began spending more and more time away from camp. Her hunting trips got longer and spanned more distance. She always came back with a bounty of food and pelts, so no one really complained, but people like Charles and Arthur started to notice. She brushed them off, making excuses. There was always a suspicious light in their eye, but they would drop the subject eventually.

During one particularly lengthy trip into the Big Valley area, Star was approached out of the blue by Javier, riding hard. “Thank god I found you!” he called out, pulling his horse to a stop. “Didn’t want to do this on my own, and Charles said you were out this way.”

“What’s wrong?”

“It’s Bill. They got him.”

She stared blankly for a moment. “Who got him?”

“Bounty hunters. I found their camp nearby, but there’s enough that I didn’t want to risk a rescue alone. They’ve got him trussed up pretty good. Can you help?”

A terribly smug smile spread over Star’s face. “Sure.” She packed her stuff onto her horse, then swung up into the saddle easily. “Lead the way.”

They raced along the plain, splashing over the stream. “How did you even find him?” Star called.

“Said he was going hunting. Never came back. I tracked him easily enough, then found signs of a scuffle. Easy enough to track the group here. Won’t be long before they break camp to collect, though. We better hurry.”

“How does Dutch handle situations like this?”

“Well… he won’t be pleased, that’s for sure. Bill will probably get an earful when he gets back. But you know Dutch: leave no man behind.”

“Right. Even the ones stupid enough to get caught?”

“I mean, he sent Arthur after Micah, didn’t he?”

Star grunted in response. The arrival of Micah Bell in camp had added to her need for distance. The man was as unpleasant as she had assumed given the single interaction she’d had with him at Cumberland Falls. He also seemed to enjoy making her race a joke, and the one time she’d dared to combat him on it, he’d blackened her eye and pulled a knife on her. Dutch and Charles had stepped in for that one, and both thankfully took her side. Ever since then, Micah’s gaze had felt dangerous. She didn’t like it one bit.

“Just up here. We should leave the horses.”

The pair dismounted, then crept up over the hill. Just through some trees was a camp of about six men. At its center was Bill, tied to a post. Star couldn’t help but note the irony of the situation, and she had already decided to rub it in his face once they got him out of there.

Javier took lead, and when he started shooting, Star followed suit. Between the two of them, it didn’t take long to dispatch the bounty hunters, all while Bill cheered them on. One fancied himself a runner, so Javier took off after him while Star turned her attentions to their quarry.

Bill was on his knees, hands tied to the post back above his head. It exposed all his vital organs, and if his captors had fancied gutting him, it would have been incredibly easy. Star stood across the fire from him, hand on her chin.

“What are you starin’ at?” Bill demanded. “Cut me loose!”

“I’m sorry, Bill, but can you blame me? How does it feel being the one tied up to a pole, army boy?”

He spluttered angrily. “I never… it weren’t me who… the army was…” As the amusement increased on Star’s face, the rage increased on Bill’s. “GOD DAMN IT, WOMAN. Cut me loose!”

She laughed, circling the edge of the fire to do so. “Alright, alright.” The blade of her knife slid easily through the ropes, then slipped back into her boot. “Don’t say I never did anything for you.”

Bill got to his feet and shook some feeling back into his hands. “Yeah, well… thanks.”

Javier came strolling back about that time, looking pleased with himself. “Got him.”

“Good,” Star replied, glancing around the camp to see if there was anything worth taking.

“I’m gonna head back to Horseshoe,” Bill told them, retrieving Brown Jack from where the bounty hunters had tied him. “You guys coming?”

“Nah,” Javier replied. “I’ve got a lead to follow up on in Strawberry.”

Star answered, “I’ll come. I’ve loaded my poor horse about to her limit. Been about a week since I’ve been back, and I know Charles likes to worry.”

“Fine. Then let’s go. See you back there, Javier.”

The three part ways late in the afternoon. Bill and Star rode mostly in silence and managed to make it to Diablo Ridge by nightfall. They made a camp in the shadow of the ridge, then set about cooking some of the meat Star had hunted. With their stomachs full, both of them sat back and gazed at the river.

Star was content to sit in silence, given that it wasn’t nearly as uncomfortable as she had expected, but in time, Bill spoke up. “Look. I didn’t… when I was in the army… I didn’t tie no Indians to no posts.” He paused. “But… it happened.”

Dark, thoughtful eyes remained with the river as she considered what he said. Her immediate response was along the lines of Why didn’t you do something?, but then she remembered the scars on his back. “It’s still happening.”

“Yeah.”

A disturbing question rose in Star’s mind, and it festered briefly in her chest before she allowed it escape. “How many of my people did you kill, Bill?” Her eyes flickered to him.

He didn’t look at her, but she could see the question weighing on him. He sighed and looked up at the stars. “Lots.”

“Did you enjoy it?”

Tension spread through his shoulders. “Now, that’s… that’s more complicated than…” He finally met her gaze and seemed to crumple beneath it. “Sometimes.”

The heat of anger crept up Star’s spine, but she wrangled it down in the interest of getting more information. “Why?”

His hands fidgeted, fingers knotting up in his pant legs and releasing. “'Cuz I seen them do terrible things. Horrible things. I still see it when… when I close my eyes at night. It… it felt right. Like justice.”

“And what of our justice?” she hissed. “What of our vengeance for what was done to us? What about the lives of women and children, ripped from this world by guns and blades in the hands of your army brothers?”

“They weren’t my brothers. None of ‘em.”

“I once saw a soldier put his boot heel through the skull of an infant to save bullets!” she screamed, shaking with anger. “I saw a pregnant woman cut open from her privates to her neck, her baby ripped out of her and slung into the river!” Bill flinched away from her, practically cowering. “You think you’ve seen horrible things? Well imagine what I see when I close my eyes at night!”

She scrambled up, pulling her knife from her boot and tackling him to the ground, putting the knife to his throat. “What of my justice, Bill Williamson? I could kill you right now, and it wouldn’t even begin to put a dent in the justice my people deserve.” She pressed the blade against his skin to accentuate her point, then fell back, away from him.

Both of them were breathing as if they’d run a mile. Bill sat back up, scooting away from her slightly. “Then why don’t ya?” he asked quietly.

“Because… because… if I kill you, then some other white man is gonna come kill me, and then another Lakota will kill another white man. Where does it end? When do we stop killing one another and  _listen_?”

Bill rubbed the spot on his neck that her knife had kissed. “I ain’t… never thought of it that way before.”

“The army doesn’t want you to think that way. The army doesn’t want you to think at all. If you don’t think, then you’ll kill without care. That’s all they need: mindless killing machines. But they kicked you out, so… well… makes me think maybe you’ve got more of a head on your shoulders than you let on.”

Their eyes met, and Bill seemed at a loss for words. Star put her knife back in her boot, then shifted over to her bedroll. “Get some rest, Bill. You had a long day. I promise not to slit your throat in your sleep.” She added a small smile onto the end, just to ease the tension in the air.

He nodded briefly, then curled up on his bedroll with his back to her. She let her eyes linger on him for a while, then she also rolled over and fell asleep.

….

When the sun rose, so did Star. The air held the familiar bite of morning, and her breath floated out in clouds as she checked on the horses. Her mare, Rhiannon, nickered softly as Star approached, raising her nose to meet Star’s hand. “Good morning, beautiful,” the Lakota mused, smiling.

The smile turned into a laugh when she found Brown Jack’s nose bumping into her back, jealous of the attention. “Good morning to you too, you silly creature,” she greeted, turning to scratch his forehead.

Once each horse had its fill of affection, they returned to grazing absently. Star stood between them with her hands on their sides, watching the river. It sparkled brilliantly in the morning sun, and gurgled pleasantly. She would have bathed had she been alone.

Her companion eventually stirred and began clanking around, preparing breakfast. She had to laugh to herself about just how loud he was. No wonder the bounty hunters had found him.

With a final pat for the horses, Star turned and made her way back to the camp. The light caught Bill’s face as she did, and she caught a glimpse of bruises, no doubt left by his captors. To her surprise, she felt a prickle of anger in her chest – an urge to see harm befall those who had left the bruises. Of course, she and Javier had taken care of that already, so she was left wondering what exactly she was supposed to do with that anger.

“Hey,” she said, plopping down by the fire.

“Hey,” Bill answered, not even looking up from the pan he was searing some fish in.

The air between them held a lingering awkwardness, but most of the animosity had died in the night. Star had certainly not forgiven him for his role in the decimation of her people. Such a thing required time and more trust than they shared. That said, her outburst the night before had settled some of her more tempestuous emotions towards him. The fact that he hadn’t fought back had added an element of complexity to the situation that she wanted to understand further. How was it possible that they both had nightmares featuring the same scene but with opposite players? It was something to think about.

They ate in silence, packed up in silence, and rode off in silence. As they neared Horseshoe Overlook, however, Bill slowed to a stop, and Star matched him. “What’s wrong?”

He sighed deeply. “Just… preparin’ for the scoldin’ I’m'a get when we get back.” He glanced at the many animals hanging from various parts of Star’s saddle. “I didn’t even manage to hunt anything before they grabbed me. No peace offerin’. Just dumb ole Bill, the camp idiot.”

Star sat there for a moment, trying to figure out her next words. When she began, she did so slowly, picking apart her own thoughts for their meaning. “Well… I can’t say it wasn’t stupid of you to get caught. But… your heart was in the right place. You were out there, doing your part for the gang. Surely they will see that.”

He snorted. “If it was Arthur or John or Charles, sure. Me? Not a chance.”

She frowned. “Why?”

“'Cuz they’s the favored sons! Sons of Dutch. Me? I’m… well, I don’t know what I am. But I ain’t them, so…” He glanced at her, then seemed to steel himself. “Let’s get it over with.”

Dutch’s voice carried due to the depth of it, and the whole camp heard him tell Bill off. Star stood at Pearson’s wagon, handing over her hoard of pelts and meat. The cook took them quietly, every so often glancing at Dutch’s tent. Star followed his gaze at one point, then asked, “Is it always like this?”

“Not always. But if Dutch is raising his voice, it’s usually at Bill.”

Star pondered on that for a moment. Dutch hadn’t once gotten sharp with her, even when she was starting fights in the camp. Sure, he believed her justified, but she had always been under the impression that some of it was mercy. She genuinely believed that if she had been grabbed by bounty hunters, she would not be getting the same talk.

“Thanks for all this,” Pearson told her. “We’ve never eaten this well. Running into you was one of the best things that could have happened to us, especially given everything that went down in Blackwater.”

“No problem. It’s the least I could do.”

With that, Star bid him farewell and wandered slowly across camp to her bedroll where she stashed some of the herbs she’d collected. While she was doing that, Bill exited Dutch’s tent, stalked to Pearson’s wagon, grabbed a bottle of whiskey, then disappeared into the trees. She watched him go, then glanced around to see if anyone was paying attention. When she was satisfied they were not, she got up and made her way to Dutch’s tent.

The older man was sitting on the side of his cot, pinching the bridge of his nose. The wooden floorboards creaked, announcing Star’s arrival, and he looked up. “Star?”

Her eyes traveled between him and the place Bill had disappeared. “Don’t you think you were a little hard on him?”

Dutch chuckled wearily. “No. It’s one thing to be prone to accidents, but Bill? His  _accidents_  are more likely to get someone killed. It’s not something we can afford right now.”

“I understand, but… he was just trying…” She huffed in frustration. “He was doing his best.”

Dutch’s gaze shifted slightly in tone. He squinted a bit, almost as if trying to see through her. “Since when do you care about Bill Williamson?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. I don’t even know that I do. I’m just… saying.”

“Hosea told me what you said during Sean’s party. Apparently, you think we give Bill too much of a hard time.”

“I… vaguely remember saying something along those lines.”

Dutch chuckled. “Well, if you didn’t  _care_ , why are you going around chiding us for our behavior?”

“You make an uncomfortably compelling point,” she conceded. Her eyes came back to Dutch and she found him eyeing her with a sort of warm amusement. Maybe she did care for the lumbering oaf. It would certainly explain the anger she’d felt at the sight of the bruises. Still, it wasn’t as simple as all that. “I put a knife to his throat on the way back here,” she admitted.

“Hmm. Why?”

“I was angry. Wanted him to feel the same fear that I feel every single time I meet a white man I don’t know. Could have killed him.” She paused, eyes going back to the trees. “He didn’t even fight me.”

Dutch’s dark eyebrows inched up his forehead slightly. “No?”

“No.”

There was a pause, then Dutch got up and came to stand where he too could look out at the trees. “Maybe we’ve been going about Bill all wrong. You have as much of a right to hate him as anyone, but it’s you that’s goin’ around defending him. And he’s… responding.”

Star frowned, unable to sort her thoughts and feelings into something useful. “I don’t know.”

“Me either.”

Dutch put a hand on her shoulder and squeezed, then went back into his tent. Star stepped out and went to sit at the dominoes table, eyes never really leaving the woods. Something about Bill felt softer now than when they’d met. He seemed more willing to drop his walls with her, and that, frankly, frightened her. She was getting drawn in to something she could not see the outcome of, but one thing was invariably certain: she had come to care about Bill fucking Williamson.


	5. Chapter 5

The next two weeks allowed for very little exploration of Star’s feelings regarding Bill. It started with Pinkertons ambushing Arthur and little Jack by the river, offering Arthur his freedom if he turned over Dutch. That put the camp on edge. But when a shootout occurred in Valentine between Dutch, Arthur, John and followers of a certain Leviticus Cornwall, it became immediately clear that the group would have to move.

All of it made Star antsy. She knew the feeling of being on the run all too well, but somehow, things seemed to be closing in around them. She hated feeling trapped, and every single moment they stayed on Horseshoe Overlook, the more trapped she felt.

Finally, Arthur and Charles were sent to scout out a new camp, but in the meantime, the gang was left to pack up and await their report. Star did her best to prepare the horses and their equipment, but she found her anxiety getting the best of her. She took a moment to herself by the treeline, taking a few deep breaths.

“Hey,” a voice called, uncharacteristically soft. “You alright?”

If anyone, Star had expected Sean to come looking for her. Maybe Hosea. Certainly not Bill.

She spun, letting out one of the deep breaths she’d taken. “I’m… I’m fine. Just needed a minute.”

“You sure? Ain’t never seen you so… skittish.”

Something about the look in his eyes – the genuine, if nervous and unfamiliar, concern – it made Star’s facade crumble. “I can’t get caught again,” she murmured. “Last time, everyone I loved died. I barely escaped several fates worse than death. Not again.”

Bill glanced over his shoulder, then stepped closer to her. “It ain’t gonna happen. Dutch will see us right. He always has.”

She didn’t want to say it, but it seemed to be Dutch’s fault that they were in the mess they were in. Still, Bill had known him a lot longer than she had, and she had little choice but to trust him. “Guess you’re right. You all wouldn’t have stayed with him so long if he wasn’t good at getting you out of scrapes. I’m just being foolish.”

“I… I don’t think you are. It’s… I dunno, normal? Somethin’ bad happened to ya, and you don’t want it to happen again. Seems about right to me.”

It was a simple explanation, but it soothed some of Star’s nerves. “True.”

“Come on. I’ll help ya with the horses.”

She nodded and followed him to where she had been packing up hay bales onto one of the wagons. Without prompting, he immediately started up the job where she had left off. For a moment, she just stood and watched him, slightly baffled at his out of the blue helpfulness. And then, for a brief second, she caught her eyes lingering on the muscles in his shoulders, arms, and back and he worked. Her face flushed and she dove into the work.

“Thank you. For the help.”

“Sure,” Bill replied.

Between the two of them, it didn’t take long to get all the tack and feed loaded up. The horses themselves were picking up on the nervous energy of the gang, but they fell in line easily enough. When all was done, Star sighed and wiped the sweat from her brow.

“What now?”

“We wait for Arthur or Charles to come back and tell us if they found a spot.”

“Waiting,” she chuckled. “Great.”

She sat on the edge of the wagon and leaned against the hay behind her. Bill came over and leaned on the wood next to her, his shoulder brushing her leg. Her gaze flickered between him and the horizon while his lingered on the ground. It took her some time to build up the courage to speak, but when she did, Star asked, “Why didn’t you fight back… the night I pulled a knife on you?”

Bill kicked at a spot in the grass. “'Cuz… you was right,” he mumbled.

She might have fallen off the wagon from shock if she hadn’t been leaned back slightly.

He too looked out to the horizon, then went on. “I seen terrible things in the army. I-I-I did. But. I did terrible things too. Same as them. It just… it seems to me that… maybe it weren’t so different. If… if you got those things in your head…. and-and I’ve got ‘em too… well….” He trailed off, seeming to either lose his train of thought or not know how to continue it further.

Star sat and considered his words for a time, noting that he had attached onto the same detail as she had. Knowing that he was as haunted by the actions of her people as she was by his… it was an uncomfortable ground to stand on, but it was even ground.

….

The transition to the new campsite went mostly without a hitch. Star had never been quite so far south before, but she had never heard anything good about it. Her understanding was that there would be many more people of like mind with Micah and Bill about people who looked like her, though they seemed to have an even worse view of people who looked like Lenny and Tilly. Poor Charles was just a walking target no matter what.

Given that knowledge, Star spent a lot more time in camp than she had previously. The country and its people was unfamiliar and potentially hostile. Better to be among friends. Besides, she was a decent fisher, so the lake they had camped next to was advantageous. She could still contribute to the camp supplies without really leaving.

One afternoon, she rolled up her pants and went south along the shore until she got to the small inlet of water. It was quieter there, and the fish were less likely to be disturbed by the bustle of camp. With her newly crafted wooden spear in hand, she waded out into the water slowly, keeping an eye out for where the fish seemed to gather. It was delicate work.

Once she found a spot for herself, well suited among the popular gathering areas, she stopped and stood stock still. She steadied her breath to cause as little disturbance as possible, and she waited. Ten minutes passed. Then fifteen. The fish began to creep back into their favored spots. She waited even longer for one to present its broadside to her, then her spear flashed out, cutting through the flesh of a trout that was none too pleased.

The rest of the fish scattered, but the one stuck on the end of her spear fought her all the way out of the water and into the air. “Wáȟwala,” she murmured. “Easy.”

When the fish finally gave out, she tied it to the rope she had around her neck, then settled once more and waited for the fish to return. She spent most of the afternoon in this pattern, snaring three decently sized fish for Pearson. As she prepared for the fourth, spear poised to strike, a voice called out, immediately scattering all the fish.

“What in hell are you doin’?”

She jerked in surprise, then rolled her eyes as she watched her quarry slide away beneath the water. “Fishing!” she yelled back, throwing a scowl at Bill on the shore.

“Your pole ain’t got a line on it.”

“Don’t need a line to catch a fish,” she retorted, spinning to reveal the three hanging around her neck. She splashed back to shore, annoyed. “Could have had more if you hadn’t come running your loud mouth.”

He gave the spear a confused look, then turned that look to the fish. “Then how’d ya catch 'em?”

“Stabbed them, you idiot. Like this.” She poked him in the gut with her spear lightly. He jumped and stepped back. “Did you come all the way out here just to pester me?”

Suddenly, he turned bashful, rubbing the back of his neck. “No.”

“Then what do you want?”

“Just… didn’t see ya in camp. Swanson said he saw ya come this way.”

It wasn’t a direct answer, but it was still an answer, and it sent surprise jolting through Star’s chest. He’d sought her out… just for the company?

The tip of her spear lowered to the ground. “I take it you’ve never spearfished before.”

“No. Ain’t never seen it done, even.”

She sighed, then checked the sky. “We’ve got some daylight left. Want to try?”

He looked utterly baffled. “Me?”

“Yes, you. Come on. Take off your boots and roll up your pants.”

She waded out into the water again, then waited for him to do as she said. It took him a minute before he snapped into action, but he followed her directions and then her footsteps. She led him out to the spot she’d chosen, then handed him the spear. “I made it for me, so it’s a little too light, but it’ll do for now.”

He took it and twisted it around in his hands. “I-I ain’t sure 'bout this.”

“Bill, it’s a stick, what aren’t you sure about?” He gave her a withering look that made her laugh. “Just shut up and listen.”

She spent some time explaining the details, emphasizing the need for stillness and precision, neither of which was she convinced he was capable of. With all of that explained, she stood back and let him try, though he still was uncertain. It only took one failure before he was ready to storm off.

She caught his arm and got in front of him. “You can’t run off yet! You only tried once!”

“I ain’t no good at this.”

“You’ve never done it before today! Of course you’re no good at it. I wasn’t either. I wasn’t good at it for many months. I’m still not the best, compared to many others. You might not catch anything today, or tomorrow, or weeks from now, but you are still learning by trying. Stay.”

The conflict in him radiated off in waves. He huffed a frustrated sigh, then his eyes fell on her hand, still lingering on his arm. “Alright. Guess… guess another try won’t hurt none.”

“As long as you don’t stab yourself in the foot,” she replied, spinning him back to the water.

The pair spent the rest of the evening in the lake as Bill tried and failed until sundown. It was a chore to keep him invested despite his failures, but Star insisted on it, and he seemed unwilling to say no to her. As it got too dark to see, they made their way back to shore.

While Bill put his boots back on, Star rolled her pants back down and collected her spear and her fish. “You did well,” she told him, offering a hand to help him stand back up.

“I looked like a god damn idiot,” he replied, taking her hand and standing.

“You did not. Your strikes got better quickly. You just need to work on the stillness and finesse.”

He scoffed. “Right. 'Cuz I’m just a graceful little princess like you.”

She grinned and started off back towards camp. “Not yet.”

They walked in silence for part of the way, the Bill tentatively posed a question. “Do… your people do that a lot? Spearfishin’.”

“We used to do it more – before the reservations. The government likes to confine us to land that provides nothing and then forbid us from leaving, even to hunt or fish. Usually it isn’t for women to learn either, but my father taught me anyway. He wanted me to be able to provide for myself and others.”

“Oh.” He waited a beat. “What… what happened to your father?”

Long buried grief twisted in Star’s stomach. “He died. At Wounded Knee.”

Bill stopped dead in his tracks. “Were you there?”

She slowed to a stop and turned to face him. “Yes. Were you?”

Even in the fading light, Star could see that Bill had blanched as white as a sheet. That in itself was an answer, but she wanted him to deny it. The emotions that bubbled up in her begged him to deny it.

“I was.”

Many things happened in quick succession. An angry sob seemed to explode out of Star, whether she wanted it to or not. She immediately dropped everything she was carrying in favor of slamming her fist into Bill’s face. He staggered back, taken completely off guard, and his hand flew to his nose to staunch the blood. Star spun and ran back to camp, unable to keep the tears from falling down her face

Bill called her name, but she did not turn. She ran until she smacked into someone whose arms closed around her.

“Star?” Charles’ quiet, concern-laden voice greeted. “What happened?”

When Bill emerged from the trees, blood running down his face into his beard, Star felt Charles tense. “What the hell did you do, Williamson?!”

The camp immediately stopped all activity and everyone turned to see what was going on. Charles passed Star to Ms. Grimshaw, then stalked over to Bill, murder in his eyes. “What did you DO?!”

“Nothin’! W-well…”

“Nothing?”

It took a second, but then Bill puffed his chest out defiantly and cried, “Yeah! Nothin’! I watched a whole god damn massacre and did  _nothin’_. I-I-I watched women and children get their heads blown off and did  _nothin’._  Star’s daddy probably died right in front of me, and  _I DID NOTHING._ ”

The whole camp was silent save for a cricket or two and the lapping of the lake against the shore. Bill looked around at everyone present, equal parts daring them to challenge him and utterly terrified of them all. Finally, his gaze rested on Star who was still standing in Ms. Grimshaw’s arms. “I… I’m… I’m sorry. For your father. For your people. For-for all of it. It ain’t gonna bring 'em back, but… I’m sorry.”

With that, he took the fish Star had dropped to Pearson’s table, then grabbed his gun, mounted Brown Jack, and rode out of camp.

Everything remained frozen until the sounds of Brown Jack’s hooves were no longer audible. Then Star sobbed again. Charles came back to her, pulling her into his arms once more. Most everyone went back to what they were doing, but Dutch and Mary-Beth joined Charles in comforting Star.

“What’s he talkin’ about?” Mary-Beth asked softly, looking between the two natives.

“Wounded Knee,” Charles replied.

“Were you there, Star?” Dutch inquired. She nodded. “Jesus Christ, girl.” He put a hand on her back. “Are you gonna be alright?”

“Eventually,” she answered, sniffing. “It’s just… it’s been a long time since I thought about it all.”

Dutch nodded. “If you need anything, you come to me, you hear?”

“Thank you, Dutch.”

Mary-Beth gave her a sympathetic pat on the back at well, then mumbled something to herself about finding something sweet the next time she was in town.

When it was just Charles and Star, the formed looked down and wiped some of the tears from her face. “Let’s go riding. We’ll find someplace to camp for a couple days. Get some distance from it all.”

“Ok.”

The pair gathered up the supplies they would need to camp, then climbed onto Taima together. Star’s arms wrapped around her surrogate brother, even though she didn’t need to hold on to stay on the horse. As they rode out into the night, she buried her face into his shoulders.

The Wounded Knee Massacre was almost ten years ago, but she had never fully healed from it. The shadow of it had lingered at the back of her mind, and when it would try to come out to play, she would beat it back with a stick until she forgot again. Apparently that was no longer an option since a living reminder occupied the same camp as she did.

Although, he seemed to have healing of his own to do. Perhaps… if done correctly, it was a path they could navigate together.


	6. Chapter 6

Charles and Star were gone for four days. Charles performed a smudging ceremony over Star to help cleanse her – both of the last few days and the trauma of her past. It made her feel better to be surrounded by the traditions of her people, but she knew it would take more than that in the long run.

After they rode back to Clemens Point and went their separate ways, Arthur immediately approached Star with concern written in every line of his face. “Hey,” he said as she put her things away.

“Hi, Arthur.”

“I heard about what happened. You ok?”

She sighed. “I suppose. Better now than I was a few days ago, anyway.”

“I bet. Can’t be easy… knowin’ what you know now.”

Her eyes panned the camp for a moment. “Where is Bill?”

“Dunno. Haven’t seen him.”

“Has he not been back?”

“Not that I’ve heard.”

Conflicted worry pitted in Star’s gut. “Has anyone seen him?”

“I don’t think so. Why?”

She debated with herself what she was about to say, but ultimately she couldn’t find any other words. “Guess I’m worried about him.”

“Why?” Arthur asked again.

“I’ve been thinking about what he said the night it all happened. He said he  _watched_ the massacre happen and did nothing. Didn’t say he participated.”

“Ok, but, you know Bill. Ain’t the greatest with words.”

“I know. Still. He said it more than once. And he was being honest in a way he’s never been. I don’t know. Maybe it’s nothing, but to me it seemed that his shame was inaction, not action. And if he’s been living with that for near ten years… well, it’s no wonder he’s all piss and vinegar all the time. He’s covering it up. All of it.”

Arthur hooked his thumbs in his belt and looked out over the lake thoughtfully. “Maybe. Guess we all got different ways of dealin’ with pain. Makes sense that some would rather lash out and drive people away.”

Star nodded. “I’m gonna go look for him.”

“You sure ‘bout that?”

“I am.” She grabbed up her things once more and headed for Rhiannon. “Any ideas where he’d go?”

“Somewhere with a saloon, most like.”

“Well, he isn’t allowed in the one in Valentine anymore, and somebody would’ve seen him if he was in Rhodes.”

“Just leaves Strawberry, Saint Denis, and Annesburg.”

“I don’t think he’d go to the city, do you?”

“Not particularly.”

“Great. So, I’m left with two towns on opposite sides of the map.” She mounted up and sighed.

“You want me to take one of 'em?

“Thank you, but no. This is something between me and him. It’s got to stay that way, I think.” She looked around the camp briefly. “Tell Charles I’ll be back in a few days, and try to convince him not to worry.”

Arthur huffed a laugh. “I’ll try.”

“Thanks.” Star turned Rhiannon towards the road that would take her North-East to Annesburg and sped off.

It took her a day and a half to reach the mining town, then another day to ask around and investigate any leads. Once she was convinced that Bill had not been there, she headed to Strawberry. This journey was longer, and she spent most of it trying to figure out exactly what she was going to say when she finally found him.

The situation was not lacking in complications, but she needed to know. All of it. Had he fired shots at Wounded Knee? Did he kill someone there? If he had, her path forward seemed clear – he was to be avoided. If not… what then? Had he watched in horror as much as she had? Were the images that kept them up at night the same exact images, just from different angles? Her instincts suggested as much, but she had to hear it from him.

It was drizzling when she trotted into Strawberry. She liked Big Valley. It felt greener than much of the surrounding area. It really felt like one could breathe. The rain wasn’t cold, so she took her time finding the saloon, but when she did, she hitched Rhiannon and slipped inside.

It was best if a native woman wasn’t noticed in these sorts of establishments – certainly one who fancied herself a gun-wearer. Unfortunately, the place was a little too small to go unnoticed, and she felt every pair of eyes land on her as she came in. All but one.

A big, burly man in red and black plaid was at the bar, hunched over a bottle. He’d clearly already had several and was not too far from falling off the stool. Star sighed and made her way to him, equal parts relieved and annoyed.

She sat on the stool next to him, facing him. “Would it kill you to drink some coffee for once?”

Bill jumped and spun to face her, nearly toppling over. She grabbed his shirt and steadied him. “Wha'the'hell you doin’ here?” he slurred, batting her hand away.

“Looking for you.”

“Leave me alone.”

“No.”

“Why not?!” he demanded, loudly.

Star glanced around. “Can we do this outside?”

“Hey, mister. She botherin’ you?” some stranger asked.

“Sorta,” Bill answered, totally missing the connotations of the question.

The man’s hand gripped Star’s wrist, hard. “Alright, lady. Get out. Leave the feller alone.”

Star pulled back against his grip. “Get off me. He and I have something to discuss.”

“Then you can wait outside, redskin bitch.”

Somehow, Bill managed to react faster than Star. His fist slammed into the man’s face, knocking him clear to the ground and slightly across the room. Star gaped while everyone else stood up, ready to fight. “Who’s next?” Bill called.

And then it turned into an all-out brawl, two against ten.

Star got yanked off her stool from behind and thrown to the ground. Luckily, she was quick and rolled out from under the stomp coming her way. Bill was just hurling himself around the room, relying on brute strength and obstinance to do the work for him. Oddly enough, it worked a little bit.

During a lull in the fight, Star grabbed Bill by the neck of his shirt and started dragging him out the door. “We have to go! We can’t win this!”

“I’ll pound every one'a them asshole into the dirt!” was the response she got.

“UGH! Come ON!”

After some more kicks and punches and dragging, she finally got Bill outside. She jumped on Rhiannon, casting a look around for Brown Jack. When she didn’t see him, she held out her hand to Bill. “Get on!!”

“Where’s…”

“We’ll whistle for him on our way out, but we have to GO. NOW!”

Bill clambered up onto the horse behind Star, wrapping his arms around her. She spurred Rhiannon into a fast canter towards the exit of town. She whistled and called, “Jack!” looking over her shoulders for the horse. A neigh replied, and Brown Jack came barreling around the corner. “Let’s go, boy!”

They rode hard and fast out of town, south towards Riggs Station. Bill clung to Star somewhat desperately, but he managed to stay on the horse, which was impressive considering. Star didn’t stop riding until they crossed the river into New Haven. Better to have as much distance as possible between them and their opponents.

When she was finally satisfied, she slowed Rhiannon to a stop. Brown Jack pulled up behind them, snorting. “Lets camp over there.”

They moved into a small copse of trees and set up a meager camp with just bedrolls and a fire. Bill sort of crashed onto the ground and groaned. Star rolled her eyes and went to observe the damage. “Let me see.”

“I am fine,” he retorted, waving her off.

“You’re drunk as hell and you got kicked in the face at least once. I saw.”

He sat up on his bedroll and scowled up at her. “It weren’t my first fight, ya know.”

“How well I know.” She crouched down to get a better look at his face even though he avoided her gaze. Bruises were beginning to blossom under his skin, he had a split lip, and a slight gash in his forehead. “Could be worse,” she noted, despite pulling a rag from her things to dab at the blood.

He caught her wrist, but she noticed that his grip was significantly less painful than the man at the bar’s had been. “Why did you come lookin’ for me?” he asked.

She pondered her answer, ultimately deciding that honesty was best. “I was worried.”

He searched her face with such vulnerable confusion. “Why?”

“Don’t know. I just… I thought about what you said.” She sighed, sitting the rest of the way on the ground. “What happened at Wounded Knee, Bill?”

“I don’t wanna talk 'bout that,” he mumbled, shrinking into himself.

“You have to. We both have to.”

A shuddering sigh exited his frame, and he rubbed the back of his neck. “We… we was ordered up there to escort some Lakota to the river. 'Spose to be disarmin’ 'em and-and bringin’ 'em to the reservation. Wasn’t supposed to be hard.” He fidgeted with the hem of his shirt, gaze lingering there. “Told us to go disarm the Indians, and we was. Then… then a shot went off. Dunno why or-or who. Then it was just… fuckin’ chaos. Weren’t nobody givin’ orders. People just started killin’ the natives, then they started killin’ back.”

He sniffed and looked out to the horizon. “Bunch of women and kids runnin’ all over the place – gettin’ shot or run down. I-I-I just stood there… and watched. Some feller came runnin’ at me with a knife. Watched half his face explode when somebody shot him. Thought they was savin’ me, but… but now I just see that man’s face at night.”

His gaze finally came back to meet Star’s. “I didn’t a fire a shot – didn’t kill nobody. But it weren’t no better than what the others done. I watched 'em murder your people. And I didn’t do a damn thing.”

Tears had welled up in Star’s eyes and fallen some time before he finished, but she didn’t wipe them away until he did. They sat in silence for a moment, then Bill continued. “After that… it was… it was easier to hate… to hate them than…”

He paused, seeming unable to articulate his thought, then just went on. “Got told stories by the boys around me about times they went up against Mexicans and Blacks. Always made it sound like they was the victims. Didn’t have no reason to question it, then, and even if I did…  it was still easier to hate than to-to see them as humans. And if they was humans… well that just made us all murderers. Government licensed murderers.”

Star sat cross-legged, hands in her lap, and she stared at her hands as she tried to process everything he had said. Did his remorse excuse him for the things he had said and done? Not necessarily. But, now that he had acknowledged the source of his animosity… could he change?

“Thank you for telling me.”

He shrugged. “Weren’t no use hidin’ it no more. Not after what happened at camp.” He paused, wringing his hands slightly. “I don’t want… to hurt you no more.”

Star’s chest rolled with emotions she did not fully understand. It was a lot to take in. “Well… punching a man in the face because he called me names is a good start.”

Bill chuckled, snorting slightly. “I punched him pretty good, didn’t I?”

“You did. I appreciate it.”

“It just struck me wrong. Figured you would'a punched me for sayin’ it, so…”

“You know, that’s a good idea. If you think I would punch you for saying it, don’t say it. And I don’t just mean about me. Lenny, Charles, Javier, and Tilly too. Maybe if you stop saying it, you’ll stop thinking it. We’re all just people. We all breathe, and eat, and shit, and die. The color of our skin makes no difference.”

“I ain’t never thought of it that way.”

She smiled softly. “I… I like you, Bill. I do. I’ll help you.”

He nodded. “Can’t say no to that.”

They ate a light dinner, then retired to their bedrolls. Bill fell asleep almost immediately and started snoring. Star spent some time watching the stars and some time watching him. Neither of them were going to heal overnight, but it felt like some sort of resolution had been reached. He was still a drunken idiot, but he was not incapable of new and individual thought. That boded well.


	7. Chapter 7

After the events in Strawberry, Star and Bill started spending a lot of miscellaneous time together around camp. Enough that people started to notice, occasionally going so far as to ask Star about it. She would just shrug and say that they found things to talk about. It wasn’t a lie. They’d sit by the lake for hours discussing the pros and cons of catching your own horse versus buying one from a stable. Granted, they never came to any sort of agreement, but they sure did talk.

Bill still had the unfortunate tendency to say problematic things to fellow gang members while drunk, but Star would usually appear from nowhere to smack him upside the head, then explain to him why what he’d said was wrong. He didn’t take it super well the first few times, but after a while, he’d even catch himself, ducking before Star could hit him. She would have to hide a smile of pride before having him tell her why it was wrong. Then, the incidents got fewer and farther between. He was still drunk most of the time, but he was significantly more pleasant about it.

Finally, one day, Dutch approached her as she sat at the fire, sitting next to her on the log she occupied. “Good evening, ma'am,” he greeted, smiling.

“Dutch. What can I do for you?”

He leaned close and murmured, “Tell me your secrets.”

“I’m sorry?”

With a chuckle, he pointed at where Bill sat, laughing with John and Javier. “What did you do to that man?”

“Nothing! Well. Nothing that any of you could not have done, if you’d been of a mind to.” Dutch raised an eyebrow and waited for her to elaborate, so she sighed and did so. “All I did was listen to him, I guess. Gave him a safe space to be himself. You lot were too busy making fun of him to notice that it hurt him when you did. Sure, he can be a big, dumb brute sometimes, but he tries.”

Dutch sat on that for a moment, then gave a nod of agreement. “Fair enough.”

“He just wants to please, Dutch. He wants you to be proud of him.”

“And what does he want from you, I wonder?”

Inside, the question felt like lightning in her bones, but outwardly, Star barely reacted. The friendship she’d built with Bill only seemed to be getting better, and she couldn’t say that same question hadn’t crossed her mind a few times. A part of her was curious to know what would happen if she followed that line of thought to its end, but for now, she was content to let things play out.

When Dutch realized she wasn’t going to respond, he stood and said. “Well, whatever you did and however you did it, thank you. One less instigator in the camp is a blessing.”

“Sure thing, boss,” she replied, waving as he went.

The next evening, Star was fishing again, only this time, when Bill approached, he waited for her to strike, then called out, “How goes it?”

She came back to shore, hauling her five fish with a smile. “Not bad. Where have you been?”

“Went into town with Dutch to follow a lead. Got to blow up some moonshiners camp.” He cleared his throat and puffed out his chest a bit. “Got deputized.”

Star’s eyes landed on the bronze star on his chest and went wide. “What?!”

He grinned as she examined the pin up close. “That’s right. I am a bona fide deputy of the town of Rhodes.”

“Who in the hell looked at you and thought you’d make a good deputy?” she teased.

“Hey!” He bat her hand away, then lifted his jacket to look at the pin himself. “To be fair, the man was blind drunk.” Star laughed which made him beam a bit. “Anyway, that leads me to my point.” He held up a large jug from behind his back. “Got to keep some'a the moonshine. Want some?”

“Oh no,” she replied, walking around him back towards camp. “I learned my lesson about drinking.” Though her voice didn’t betray it, blush prickled up the back of her neck. They’d never addressed what happened the night of Sean’s party, and she had hoped it was forgotten.

“Come on,” he prodded, following her. “Just one, then.”

She spun to walk backwards and look at him. “Just one?”

“Yeah!”

“Alright. Just let me drop these fish with Pearson.”

Bill practically giggled as he went to collect glasses from a nearby table, then followed Star until they were sitting in their spot by the lake. She held the glasses as he poured, then they sat back and nursed their very strong drinks.

Star gasped a little on the first sip, and Bill laughed at her. “I think I just burnt the skin off my throat,” she wheezed.

“Lightweight,” he teased, throwing back the whole glass, then pouring himself another.

“Easy! I am not carrying you back up to camp.”

She turned to look at the water, admiring the way the moon began to sparkle on its surface. Bill’s eyes barely left her, and she could feel every inch of her skin heat up. “It’s not polite to stare.”

“Sorry,” he mumbled, doing that unbearably, adorably awkward thing where he looked away and rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s just… ya look… real pretty.”

Star’s stomach did flips while she tried to control her reaction. “It’s just because it’s dark,” she joked.

“Ya don’t just look pretty in the dark,” he retorted before realizing what he was saying. When he did, he back-pedaled quickly. “I mean… it’s not like I… I ain’t in the habit of starin’, if that’s what you’re thinkin’.”

She wasn’t even sure what she was thinking. “Well… I guess if you think so all the time, it must be true.”

He downed the rest of his second glass and poured a third. “I been thinkin’. Been thinkin’ a lot. ‘bout how you came after me. How-how you listen to me. How you told the fellers not to make fun of me no more.”

“And?”

“And I… I ain’t never had nobody look out for me like that before. Not nobody.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” she replied, turning a sad eye to him.

He shook his head, waving her off. “No. Don’t be sorry. I just… want to say… thanks.”

A small smile touched her lips. “You’re welcome.”

He nodded, seemingly pleased with himself. “That’s all I wanted to say.” With a slight hiccup, he added, “Well, mostly all.”

Knowing full well that she might be getting in over her head, Star asked, “What’s the rest?”

“Um… that… that I keep thinkin’ 'bout… 'bout that night. The party.”

She cringed slightly. “Do you even remember any of that?”

“Some.” He swirled the drink around in his glass. “I remember holdin’ your hand in the woods. I remember kissin’ ya.” His eyes landed on her. “I remember you kissin’ me.”

Well, she couldn’t fault him there. She took a long sip of her drink and sighed. “And?”

“Dunno. Just been thinkin’ 'bout it.”

Did she dare admit the truth? It seemed only fair, given he had put his neck out. “Me too.”

He looked up in surprise. “Really?”

“Yep,” she replied with a nod and another small sip. She could already feel the alcohol buzzing around in her system, and she didn’t want a repeat of the night in question.

“Well… what do you remember?”

“About as much as you.”

They lapsed into a heavy silence that neither seemed to know how to break. For her part, Star wasn’t sure what she wanted. She was attracted to the idea of starting something with him, but some part of her was still holding onto the past. It felt like a betrayal to her people.

“Can we talk about this another time?” she asked abruptly, standing.

Bill stood with her, staggering ever so slightly. “I… sure… I guess.” She handed the glass back to him and started to walk away, but stopped when he called after her. “Star, I’m… I’m sorry. Didn’t mean… shit… I dunno what I mean.”

Her heart swelled at his attempt to soothe her. “Don’t worry about it, Bill. I just have some things I have to work out first. Once I do… we’ll talk about it again.”

“Al… alright. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.” She gave him a wave, then made her way to her bedroll.

Charles had been out of the camp for a couple days, but she made a note to find him when he finally came back. There was no one else she could imagine talking this through with, even though he likely would not fully understand. He was playing big brother after all. This sort of thing was supposed to be his worst nightmare.

….

It took another couple of days for Charles to return, and in the mean time, Star skirted around Bill as best she could. The man tried to go on as if nothing had happened, bless him, but she just couldn’t shake the fact that she’d left him hanging, and was still no closer to an answer than before. So, mostly their interactions consisted of brief greetings when passing in camp.

“Morning.”

“Alright?”

“Yeah, you?”

“Yeah.”

It was agony. Ridiculous agony.

Finally, Charles rode back into camp with a plethora of pelts that Star barely allowed him to drop off before taking his arm and leading him somewhere more private.

“Where are we going?” he asked, amused.

“Don’t know. Over here a bit. Where no one can hear us.”

“Why don’t you want anyone to hear us?”

“Just… because.”

When Star was satisfied that they were far enough from camp to be left alone, she slowed and turned to Charles. “I need to ask you something.”

“Ok.” He crossed his arms over his chest and settled in. “Shoot.”

“I… well…” She huffed and rubbed a hand down her face. “Bill… I think… has feelings… for me.” Charles blinked, but did not move. “And I… have… feelings… for him.”

Her brother continued to stare at her, but when she said nothing more, he replied, “That wasn’t a question.”

“Isn’t it?!” she cried, throwing her hands up. “What do I do?”

“What do you want to do?”

“I… I don’t know. I guess I’d like to… to follow through on it.”

“Then what do you need me for?”

“God, Charles,” she complained, fighting the urge to just crumple into the dirt. “You know his history and how it intersects with mine. Is it… a betrayal to my people to entertain this relationship? Am I fraternizing with the enemy here?”

Charles nodded, his thoughtful gaze falling to his feet. “I see why you might think so. But I’m not sure I agree. Since your arrival, all you have done is seek to make him better – even after finding out his past. To change a man’s mind about his hatred is not something to toss aside. There is no reason to believe that you would not continue to be a good influence on Bill. Changing him for the better is a service to your people, not an attack.”

Star stared at him. “That’s not what I thought you’d say.”

He shrugged. “Objectively, we should all hope to meet someone whom we may improve, and who can improve us in turn. Subjectively… you realize that if he hurts you even once I will have to kill him?”

Bubbly laughter burst from Star, unwilling to be contained. “Now that is much more what I was expecting.”

A small smile brightened Charles’ face. “I am honored that you brought this to me.”

“You’re the closest thing to family that I have. There is no one else I would trust with it.”

“So you’ve made your decision, then?”

“Yeah.”

“How are you going to tell him?”

“I don’t know yet. The opportunity will present itself. In the meantime, have you eaten?”

“I’m starving.”

Star spent the rest of the day with Charles, listening to his stories from hunting and random encounters. As the sun began to sink, however, her mind turned to the task at hand.

Bill had given her a pretty wide berth that day, so it took her a while to track him down. When she did, pain tugged at her heart. He was sitting in their spot by the lake, alone, drinking a bottle of whiskey. Thankfully, he wasn’t chugging it, but he’d put a pretty decent dent in it, and who knew how many he’d had before that one.

She made her way down to him and sat next to him on the log he’d chosen. He immediately jumped out of his skin and sloshed whiskey out of the bottle. “JESUS CHRIST!” he yelped. “Where the hell did you come from?!”

Star couldn’t help but laugh as she reached out to steady him. “I’m sorry! I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to.”

“Gotta warn a feller before you sneak outta the darkness,” he chided, wiping some of the stray whiskey from his pants.

“I’m sorry,” she said again, unable to shake the grin that had taken hold of her face. “I forget how quiet I can be. Especially when I’m nervous.”

“Ain’t no reason to be nervous,” he replied quietly. “It’s just me.”

“I know.” She let out a deep breath slowly, slipping her feet out of her moccasins and wiggling her toes in the sand. “I, um… I thought we could continue the conversation we were having the other night. If you want.”

He blinked, slightly taken off guard, but replied, “I… yeah! Sure.”

From there, they fell into silence. It went on long enough that Bill murmured, “Who’s supposed to start?”

Star laughed a bit and shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe me since it was me who ended it.” She paused and took a steadying breath. “I’ve spent most of the time I’ve known you not knowing whether or not I was supposed to be your friend. Everything about you screamed enemy, but I just couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to you than you let on. I was right. You’re more complicated than you seem. Which is both good and bad. But I guess the point of all this is to say: I really like you. In a way I did not anticipate, and it scares me a little. But being around you makes me happy, so… I’d like to be around you as much as possible.”

Bill nodded to himself a bit. “I ain’t never been one for fancy words and all… but I ain’t never known no one like you before. You… you really make me think. Even when I don’t wanna. Which is both good and bad.” He nudged her slightly with his elbow. “I-I-I like… who I am… with you. So I wanna stay with you… all the time.”

Warmth flooded Star’s body, but she couldn’t resist adding, “Well, that’s a bit impractical.”

The look he gave her was stone cold 'done with your bullshit’, and she burst into laughter. Completely maintaining his straight face, he admonished, “Now, is that any way to respond to a man barin’ his soul? Christ.”

Star just giggled and leaned her head sideways against his shoulder. Her left hand slid down the underside of his arm until their palms were touching, then she wiggled her fingers between his and held. He stared at that particular phenomena for a moment, then took another swig from the whiskey bottle before offering it to her. She accepted and knocked back a swallow. They sat together, passing the bottle, until it was empty.

When it was, Bill got brave enough to ask, “Does… does Charles know?”

Star smiled. “Yeah.”

“Is he…”

“Don’t you worry about Charles. I’ll keep him straight. Just… consider yourself on probation for now.”

“Right.” He waited a beat. “Does anyone else know?”

“Dutch had suspicions, but I haven’t told anyone. Why?”

“I don’t know,” he sighed, deflating a bit. “It’s just… they’re gonna tease me. 'Bout all of it. The way I treated ya.”

“You’d think they’d just be happy for you.”

“Well… maybe. Mary-Beth will be. Always got her head in some romance book or another. Won’t never hear the end of it from her.”

“A girl has to have her escape mechanisms, especially in a world of men.”

Bill turned his head to look at Star as best he could given her position on his shoulder. “What’s yours?”

“Hunting. Why do you think I run away to hunt so much?”

“Well… well I always thought… it was me.”

“Can’t say it wasn’t sometimes, but I’ve been running to the woods since long before we met. It’s quiet there. Things make sense – have a natural order. I understand my role in the world when I hunt. Otherwise, I just feel… adrift. My home was taken from me – the life I knew reduced to a shadow of its former self. I wasn’t lying to Dutch about seeking purpose.”

Bill’s grip on her hand tightened slightly and his eyes went to the lake. “After I got kicked out of the army… I was lost too. I was stickin’ up folk on the highway just out west of the mountains. Drinkin’ like a fish. Then one day, feller comes along, and I try to rob him. He just looks at me and laughs. Now I… I nearly killed him. I was just… so angry. But he… he cheered me up… and he gave me purpose.” He ran his thumb over the back of her hand. “That man was Dutch van der Linde.” His gaze returned to her. “You trust him. He’ll lead ya right.”

She looked up at him. “Maybe he already did.”

Bill’s jaw worked as if he were chewing the words before saying them, then he ended up abandoning them altogether in favor of a desperate kiss. Star inhaled her surprise sharply through her nose, then picked her head up off his shoulder to meet him. He released her hand to slide that arm around her waist, pulling her closer. Her right arm went around his shoulders as counterbalance.

They spent a couple moments locked together in a shared curiosity, though the emotions that prompted the embrace were never lost. Bill’s hold on her suggested that he was afraid she’d disappear, and her hold on him was an attempt to assure him that she wouldn’t.

When the necessity of breathing forced them apart, they remained nose to nose, and Star nudged his with hers lightly. “I’m glad I’m going to remember this one better than the others.”

“Why?”

“Because I meant that one. Really meant it.”

“Me too,” he replied, stealing another one.


	8. Chapter 8

The pair kept the change in their relationship mostly to themselves, but the signs were there, and the gang started to notice. It certainly wasn’t all at once, but over the next couple weeks, both Bill and Star began getting comments.

As Bill had predicted, Mary-Beth was the most ecstatic, and, in fact, the first to notice at all. One afternoon, she grabbed Star by the hand and pulled her behind one of the wagons, flushed and giggly. “Now, how you gonna hide a thing like that from me?” she whispered, playfully accusatory.

“What are you talking about?”

“Don’t you start. I saw you holdin’ Bill’s hand ‘round the fire last night.” She laughed when Star blushed. “Ain’t nothin’ to be ashamed of! You’ve gotta tell me everything.”

From there, it was just a matter of time. Star spied across the camp as Charles pulled Bill aside and spoke in hushed, serious tones. The conversation ended with a handshake though, so she assumed all was well and didn’t pry.

Dutch caught sight of the pair standing together under the big tree, just slightly too close to pass it off as anything else. Star was the one who met that gaze, and she was rewarded with a knowing wink and a chuckle as the older man turned back into his tent.

Of course, as soon as Sean and Karen found out, the rest of the camp followed soon after. Bill would get claps on the shoulder, usually accompanied by congratulations of some sort, depending on the man. Micah thought, for some reason, that it would go over well if he made a comment about how fucking a native girl wasn’t going to earn Bill forgiveness for the things he’d done. It took Charles, Grimshaw, and Bill to pull Star off of him, and the marks she’d left would undoubtedly scar. If his gaze had seemed dangerous before, it was literally the gates of Hell now.

For the most part, the two were met with approval and occasional confusion. Arthur embodied the latter, though as soon as he realized that they were both happy, he just shrugged it off and moved on.

As for Bill and Star themselves, they had their own confusions to work through. Neither were exceptionally experienced in romantic relationships, so they didn’t really know what steps to take or when to take them. For a long time, the extent of their physical affection was simply being joined at the hands whenever it seemed appropriate. They sat next to each other a lot, usually about as close together as was physically possible without sitting on top of one another. Which made sitting on top of one another the next logical step.

Bill was sitting at the fire one night with Sean, Uncle, John, and Karen. Star was grabbing herself some coffee, then she made her way over to join them. As she passed in front of Bill, intending to take the seat next to him, he hooked her around the waist and guided her onto his lap. She let him, but once she was sitting, she gave him a questioning look, expecting him to follow up the action with words of explanation. He gave none. In fact, he didn’t even seem to realize that she was looking for one. He’d gone right back to the conversation he’d been having. Like it was nothing. And she thought her heart would explode.

Of course, no matter how caught up in each other they were, life around them continued on, sometimes requiring their attention. One hot afternoon, Star was tending to a couple of the horses when she saw Uncle, Arthur, Bill, and Charles headed her way.

“It’s a supply wagon,” Uncle was saying. “Full of payroll. But very briefly unguarded, apparently, as it passes through a crossroads near here on its way to join up with the rest of the wagon train.”

“As long as we get paid, or you get shot, I’m happy,” Arthur replied.

“You are a sick man, Arthur Morgan.”

Star handed the reins of Brown Jack to Bill, then looked between them all. “Can I come?”

A brief silence fell before Arthur shrugged. “I don’t see why not.”

“Do we really need five?” Bill asked.

“Why? You don’t want me to come?” Star replied, climbing onto Rhiannon.

Bill hunched a bit and grumbled, “Well… I…”

Uncle chortled. “Look at 'im! Boy’s too embarrassed to admit he’s worried 'bout ya.”

“Shut up, you old coot!”

Star chuckled, leaning on her mare’s withers. “So, I’m coming?”

“Yeah,” Arthur answered. “Let’s go before we miss the damn thing.”

The group rode out of camp, falling in line behind Uncle as he led them to the location. After a moment of silence, Bill, still obviously bitter about Uncle’s comment, called up, “How’d you even get wind of this, old man? We only been down here all of five minutes.”

“Well, while you lot been fishin’ or playin’ lawmen, or whatever the hell you been doin’, I been gettin’ down to business.”

“Findin’ the nearest grog house.”

“Hey, if you don’t want in on this Williamson, that’s fine by me. Do us a favor: head home and leave us with your obviously better half.”

Arthur sighed loudly. “Give it a rest, you two.”

“Just have a little faith for once, will ya? I’ve been scopin’ jobs like this since you all was knee-high to a grasshopper.”

“Once a decade, maybe.”

“What exactly have you scoped this time?” Star cut in. “I never asked.”

“Wagon with a lockbox passes through here every week. They switch outriders just north of here, but the front wagon’s by itself for a stretch before the last run into Rhodes.” He led the crew to a spot just south of the crossroad, then slowed to a stop. “Should be passin’ through right up there.”

“When?” Bill complained.

“Soon, Williamson. Chrissakes. It should be due anytime now.”

“We should cover our faces,” Charles said.

Star pulled a black handkerchief from her pocket, tying it around her face the way she’d seen them do it in the past. A part of her felt somewhat giddy at being along for her first holdup, but she knew it could go sideways all too easily, so her excitement was tempered by wariness.

For a moment, her eyes slid to Bill, and she allowed herself a second to feel the emotions stirred up by his worry. It was nice to be worried over, but one thing that was going to have to be clear was her independence. She was not the sort to be left behind just because of a little danger.

“There!” Uncle cried, pointing. “Ya see, gentlemen? Just like I said.”

“What do you want me to do?” Star asked quickly, realizing that she didn’t know what role to play.

“We’ll keep our guns on 'em, you take their stuff,” Uncle decided simply. “Now come on!”

They rode out, kicking their mounts into a brief gallop to pull up evenly with the stagecoach. “Stop the wagon!” Bill roared. When they showed no signs of doing so, he yelled again. “I  _said_  stop the damn wagon!” The coach lumbered to a stop. “Now. Don’t do anything stupid, and we won’t do anything unkind.”

As the boys held up the driver and his partner, Star jumped off her horse and jogged to the back of the wagon to begin gathering the goods. As she pried into the lockbox, the driver spoke. “Look, I… I don’t want to get shot. But this is a mistake. I work for Cornwall Kerosene & Tar… Mr. Leviticus Cornwall.”

“Oh, great,” Arthur sighed while Star froze half way through what she was doing.

“So you know him?”

“Who doesn’t?” Charles spat.

Bill laughed. “I hear he’s rich enough to share the wealth around and not miss it too much.”

“Oh, he’ll miss it,” the driver insisted, voice quivering slightly.

“Get to it,” Arthur said, gesturing at Star.

She went back to work breaking into the box. “Not bad,” she reported once she was in. “At least a thousand here.”

“Is… is that a woman?” the driver asked, meekly surprised.

“Ain’t your damn business what she is!” Bill snapped.

Star looked up to assure him she was alright and found his eyes on her. Just as she opened her mouth, his eyes went past her and went wide. “Shit! I see somethin’!”

Somehow, with even more weary resignation, Arthur let out another, “Ohhh great.”

“Let’s go!” Charles bellowed as the first of the riders rounded the hill.

Star leaped down from the wagon, shoving the money into her satchel. Rhiannon was already taking steps to follow the others, but slowed her gait just enough for Star to vault into the saddle, and then they raced off.

Bullets whizzed past Star’s head, so she practically buried her face in her mare’s mane trying to avoid them. Every once in a while, she stole a glance behind to see how much their pursuers had gained. For the most part, they were keeping ahead.

“Nice goin’, Uncle!” Bill spat. “Most guarded wagon in god damn history!”

“How was I to know?” the old man cried.

“We got seven or eight of them on us!” Star warned.

As they rode, Arthur pulled out his pistols and started trying to eliminate some of the threat, but the bullets that hissed through the air didn’t seem to grow any less numerous. Finally, as the group left the road and took to the woods, they began to shake the riders.

Uncle urge, “Let’s get 'em off us and get back to camp!”

“No!” Arthur replied. “We need to find a place to lie low. We can’t risk leadin’ Cornwall’s men to camp!”

“Alright, fine.”

In a fortuitous turn of events, the woods broke onto a small farm with a barn on the edge of the property. “Let’s hide here,” Charles called.

They all slammed to a stop, jumping from their horses and sending the animals running. Rhiannon was not quick to leave her rider, looking back in confusion when Star urged her on. “Yé, yeyá.”  _Please, go_. With a mournful whinny, the mare sped off, following Brown Jack into the woods. The outlaws hurried into the barn and out of sight.

“We’ll stay here until dark,” Arthur decided. “Then sneak outta here. Charles, keep watch for now. The rest of ya, get some rest.”

Star checked on Charles first, making sure that none of the stray bullets had found a mark. He assured her he was fine and told her he was proud of her. Her hand slipped to make sure her satchel was still at her side, and the money still inside. “Glad to help. I want to do my part.”

“You do your part and then some, Star,” he replied, lips turning into the slightest of smiles. “Go take a minute.”

“That was not the first time I’ve been shot at, Charles Smith.”

“I know. Me either.”

She smiled and pat his arm before turning and making her way to where Bill had plopped down. She slid down the barn wall to the floor next to him, letting out a sigh as she did so. “Still here then?” she asked, eyes flitting over to him.

“More or less,” he grumbled. After another grumpy moment, he asked, “You?”

“As far as I can tell.”

“See why I didn’t want you to come now?”

“I knew why when you said it. Didn’t change anything.” She turned her head fully to look at him. “You can’t ask me to live this life, then try to protect me from it. I can handle myself. Besides, you don’t have a monopoly on worry. You expect me to just hang behind in camp while you ride out here getting shot at? I feel better being in the thick of it with you. That way, I’ve got your back and you’ve got mine.”

Some of the anger and tension left Bill’s body, and he turned his head to meet her gaze. “Guess yer right.” He paused. “I just don’t fancy watchin’ you die bloody is all. Don’t need no more nightmares.”

“I know,” she murmured, slipping her hand in his.

….

As afternoon faded into evening and evening into twilight, the crew kept it quiet, only exchanging a few whispered words every now and again. Star slept briefly, her head leaned against Bill’s shoulder, as the adrenaline of the chase wore off, but mostly the pair just sat in comfortable silence, hands latched between them.

As the night birds and bugs began their song, Arthur stood and looked around. “Alright,” he murmured. “Let’s get outta here.”

“Absolutely,” Uncle agreed.

“Shut up, old man.”

“Hey, I was just tryin’…”

“Shut up!” Charles hissed from his spot by the door. “There’s a light by the house.”

“Damn!” Arthur breathed. “Al-alright, just keep this calm. See what happens.”

They immediately went silent and crouched behind whatever cover they could find, watching as a lantern approached the door. Someone knocked, then the door creaked open slowly. “Don’t shoot!” the person behind the door cried.

“Is this your place?” the man bearing the lantern demanded.

“K-kinda.”

“You didn’t hear nothin’?”

“I-I…”

“Go ahead and tell me what you heard, partner. Now.”

The person at the door stammered some more, then admitted, “I heard some noise out by the barn a while ago. Whoever you lookin’ for… it ain’t me.”

“Better not be. Cooperforth, Lowe, go check out the barn.”

The air in the barn seemed to go solid with tension as two more lanterns began to approach. Star shrunk back into a corner, watching between the wood slats as the murky light crept closer. Had it been only her and Charles, they might have had a decent chance of blending into the darkness, but the others… they practically glowed in the moonlight.

As the lights reached the barn, one of them entered slowly as the other made his way around the back. “Place looks empty enough,” the first said.

“Yeah,” the other replied. “I don’t think they’re here. Don’t see any horses.”

The one coming around the back was passing a little too close for Star’s comfort, and she reached out, grabbing the back of Bill’s shirt and pulling him further into the shadows. Being the man that he was, he managed to find and step on the only tin can on the floor of the barn. The metal crunched loudly, he yelled an expletive, and everything immediately went to shit.

Charles shot the man at the door, and as soon as the man in the back passed in front of one of the wide windows, Star vaulted over the wall and tackled him to the ground. He struggled for a moment, but her hands around his throat did their work.

Gunfire started up again, and Bill cried, “GET BACK IN HERE!”

She dodged a bullet or two, then clambered back over the wall with significantly less grace than she’d exited. The men around her were aiming out of the barn in every direction, and the wood around them would splinter with a whistle and a crack. The situation was not good.

“Can’t you keep your fat feet still for five fuckin’ seconds?” Uncle admonished loudly.

“You got us into this!” Bill retorted. “This feller sure don’t like gettin’ robbed!”

Star pulled her pistols from her belt and began firing into the darkness, aiming for the smoke of other guns. Every once in a while, she heard a cry as her shot landed, but mostly she felt as though she were just wasting bullets shooting at ghosts.

It went on like this for some time, and then one of the lanterns that had been dropped was struck by a stray shot, immediately causing the barn to catch fire. Arthur glanced at it, then called, “Ain’t you glad I insisted you come along, Uncle?”

“That’s it! I am officially retired!”

Star stood up, unloading one gun into a man who fancied himself brave. “If we don’t get out of here, we’re charcoal! Anybody got any bright ideas?”

“Well, we could…”

“NOT YOU, UNCLE.”

Bill laughed as he ducked behind a support beam. “Now she’s gettin’ it!”

He was answered by part of the roof of the barn collapsing in, so he ran to the back wall and kicked a hole in a weak spot. “Let’s go!”

They ran for the hole, slipped out, then started high-tailing it to the woods. Shots followed them as they ran, smacking into trees and kicking up clods of dirt. Star was naturally light-footed, so she sprang between the trees easily, but her companions were all a bit more lumbering and lagged behind. She didn’t realize how far behind until she abruptly realized she couldn’t hear them behind her anymore. The gunshots had stopped as well, so she slid to a stop and listened.

The fog that drifted through the forest made for good cover, but it also meant she could no longer see her friends. She could hear them, however, once she focused, and they seemed to have split up. Unsure of what to do, she jogged off in the direction of one pair, but aimed ahead of them. When she saw lanterns in the distance, she scurried up one of the trees with lower hanging branches and waited.

Before long, Bill and Charles passed beneath her, pursued by the lights. She let them go, waiting for their pursuers to cross her path. As the two unwitting men entered her range, she hurled her tomahawk into one’s skull, then jumped down onto the other, feeling bones crunch as he shouted. She yanked her ax from the head of the other, then used it to finish off the one beneath her, all while Bill and Charles gaped.

Blood spattered her face and front, and she climbed back to her feet, wiping her weapon down her pant leg. “Where did you go?” she chided. “Where’s Arthur and Uncle?”

“Where did  _you_  go?” Charles replied. “We looked up and you’d disappeared into the fog.”

They were interrupted by distant gunshots, then a lingering silence. They waited, on edge, as footsteps approached them from the woods. Finally, Arthur and Uncle staggered into view. “Everyone still alive?” Arthur called.

“Just about,” Bill huffed.

“Alright, let’s get the hell outta here. Now we got Cornwall on our backs again.”

“It was an honest mistake!” Uncle defended.

“Leave it! Go on, get outta here. All of ya, split up. Stay quiet and move.”

Star held out her satchel to Arthur. “Here’s the take.”

“Naw, you hold onto it. Probably safer with you anyways. We’ll catch up back at camp and get it split up. Go on. Get.”

As she turned to go, he added, “You did good today, Star. Real good.”

She turned back, warming from head to toe. “Thanks, Arthur.” He nodded and shooed her away before running off in the other direction.

When she spun back to run, she found Bill still standing there. “What are you doing?”

“Waitin’ for you!”

“But Arthur said…”

“Ain’t nobody on the road gonna suspect us of nothin’, long as we keep our heads down. Come on.”

She shrugged and fell into step with him, however, he caught her shoulder and stopped her to pass a discerning gaze up and down her body. “Well, they might if they see all that blood on ya.” He began unbuttoning his blue plaid shirt, revealing the white undershirt he usually wore with it. Once it was off, he held it out to her. “Here. Change into that.”

She took it gingerly, noting the differences in body language from the last time they’d exchanged that particular shirt. They stood much closer together, and their fingers brushed against one another as it changed hands. It made her smile.

She started shedding her shirt, only to find him turning beet red and staring at literally anything but her. Another notable difference from the last time. She used her soiled shirt to wipe off her face and hands, then she swung Bill’s shirt on and buttoned it up. It was still much too large, but it was comfortable that way, especially after the stress of the day.

“Good?” she asked. He nodded, rubbing the back of his neck, then walked on. She hung her shirt on her satchel, between the two sides of the strap and jogged a couple steps to catch up.

The first part of the journey was spent in silence, but Star could feel an anticipation from Bill, like he had something sitting on the tip of his tongue to say. It didn’t come out for a long time, but she was content to wait until it did.

The moon was setting by the time he spoke, and they were maybe halfway back to camp. “You… you did do good. Real good.”

“So… does that mean you’ll bring me along on more jobs?”

“I dunno. Maybe.”

She let that sit for a moment, then gently pressed, “You can’t hide me away now, just because we’re… whatever we are. I’m still my own person, and I get to choose the level of danger I put myself in. Ok?”

He nodded. “Yeah. Alright.”

She stepped in front of him, hands on his chest. “But. It does mean something to me that you want to protect me.”

He looked down at her, and for the first time, she realized that something was deeply bothering him. Far more than she had initially understood. Her hands fell back to her sides, and her expression lost all of its playfulness, replaced by concern. “What aren’t you telling me?”

“Nothin’.”

“No. Not nothing. What is it?” She thought back over the last few hours, and her memory landed on something: his face when she’d killed those two men. At the time, she’d simply read it as surprise, but looking back… he was horrified. She’d been taught the trick of hiding in trees by her father, and she’d seen the tactic used against animals and army alike. It was a key ambush strategy. “Tell me.”

He sagged slightly, apparently unable to deny her despite not wanting to talk about it at all. “It was dark. We was marchin’ through the woods – last stretch before camping. They… they came from everywhere. Trees, rocks, the damn clouds. Rainin’ Indians, and them Indians had knives and hatchets – quiet, deadly, and near invisible. Couldn’t see 'em comin’ for ya. All you could hear was the screams.”

Star stood there, allowing her imagination to run with his words and her regret at calling forth this memory to run through her veins. “I… I’m sorry. I didn’t…”

He shrugged her off and walked around her. It felt like another diversion so he wouldn’t have to complete the story, so she called out, “Tell me the rest!” He didn’t respond, so she snapped, “Bill Williamson, you tell me the rest!!”

He froze, tensed up, then spun around and came back shouting. “You wanna know the rest? You wanna know 'bout the feller that… well… you wanna know how it felt to watch him crumple under the body of some big brave with a knife and see his blood spray everywhere? How it felt tryin’ to choke the life back into his damn neck?”

She stared at him, missing an essential detail amid the horror. He seemed to realize this because he slowed down, took a deep breath and revealed, “I ain’t never felt 'bout no one the way I felt about him. Not… not 'til you.”

Understanding smacked Star like a stampede, and her heart squeezed in pain. “Oh,” she breathed, feeling tears of sympathy well up.

“They kicked me out 'cuz of him. Well. That, and that time I tried to kill someone for speakin’ ill of 'im. Coulda court martialled me. Just… dishonorably discharged me instead. Didn’t want to deal with it. I shoulda been shot by firin’ squad.”

“For loving someone?”

Several expressions crossed Bill’s face. One was a scoffing scorn, then shocked confusion, and then just pain. Unadulterated pain. “Why ain’t you tellin’ me off? Tellin’ me I’m some sorta freak?”

She blinked in confusion. “For… for loving someone?”

“A man! A man, damn you.”

“Among my people, we are free to love whom we will. At least… we were before the white Christians came. But my father always tried to teach me the old ways. Your love for this man was no less valid than… than whatever it is you feel for me.”

Bill looked like he wanted to fly apart at the seams as well as melt and disappear into the earth. He was a bundle of nervous energy combined with the crushing weight of grief and guilt and fear that he had been hiding for years. Star just stood at a distance, waiting to see what would happen.

His hands rubbed down his face, accompanied by a shaky sigh, then hung limply at his sides. “Why can’t you just be like everyone else?” he murmured, shrugging sadly. “Why couldn’t you just hate me like I wanted you to?”

“You didn’t do a convincing enough job,” she replied.

He let out a small laugh. “Right. Nevermind bein’ hateful and mean and ornery without reason. Wasn’t enough.”

“But… it wasn’t without reason. That’s what I saw in you. That’s why I couldn’t hate you. You’re just… not as mysterious as you seem to think you are.”

Bill laughed again before wiping away an errant tear. “Oh.”

Star held out her hand, and after a moment, he stepped closer and took it. “I’m sorry for your lost love. And I know I’ll never be him, but…”

Bill shook his head and cut her off. “I-I don’t want you to be. I just want… I just want you to be you.”

“Ok. I can do that.”

“Thank you.”

He pulled her into his arms, wrapping them around her and lifting her into the air slightly. She put hers around his shoulders and leaned her head against his. Absolutely nothing had gone as she expected that day, but sometimes that was the only way things should go.


	9. Chapter 9

Much of the events that happened to the gang over the next few weeks were outside of Star's circle of influence. She knew that Dutch and Hosea had fingers in several pies, namely the Braithwaites and the Grays, but she had not been tasked with any of that, so she kept to her usual activities, hunting and fishing. Bill would occasionally be sent into town to drink with the Grays and see what he could find out, but he never stayed gone very long, and interestingly enough, he seemed to come back much less drunk than he used to.

The pair spent their evenings together, usually in their spot by the lake. Much to Bill's chagrin, Star urged him to talk about and process more of his time in the army, but she, in turn, would tell him about things that had happened to her and her family. The occasional tear was shed, which was uncomfortable for both parties, but ultimately they finally found safety in one another that they had not found anywhere else.

One unassuming night, Bill approached her as she finished tossing down some hay for the horses, taking her hand and pulling her behind one of the wagons. “What?” she laughed softly. “Why are we hiding?”

“We-we ain't hidin'! Just... wanted some privacy, that's all.” He looked at their hands, hanging between them, then looked up and asked, “You wanna go camping or somethin'? Just... somethin' to get away from here?”

“Why? You trying to get me alone?” she teased, immediately sobering when he turned the color of a tomato. “Oh. Um... I mean, sure! Just let me finish feeding the horses?”

“Alright. I'll pack supplies,” he replied, equal parts blushing like a love-struck girl and grinning like an idiot. He hurried off, and Star watched him go, unable to shake the pit of nerves that had settled in her gut. In an effort to ignore them, she did as she'd said and finished feeding the horses.

Once that was done, she searched out Kieran to let him know what all she'd gotten done and what still needed doing. He thanked her, then his eyes went over her shoulder. “Um... Bill waitin' on ya for somethin'?”

“Yes. Why?”

Kieran chuckled to himself. “He's already mounted up and starin' at ya. Better hop to it.”

“Jesus Christ,” she muttered, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Anyways... guess I'll be back in a couple days. Can you handle it all until then?”

“Don't I always?” he teased lightly.

“True. Thanks, Kieran.”

“Anytime.”

With that, there was no excuse left to keep Star from joining Bill. It wasn't as though she didn't want to go. It was just a fairly large leap in terms of their relationship compared to the steady habits they'd cultivated. And it would be the first time they would be entirely alone with no ulterior motive to hurry them back. It was both exciting and terrifying all at once.

She made her way over to where Bill sat atop Brown Jack. She made to reach for Rhiannon, but found Bill holding out his hand to her instead. “Don't need both, do we?”

“Well... no. I don't suppose.” She took his hand and climbed up behind him.

As she settled in, she wrapped her arms around his middle, causing him to look back at her. “Thought you didn't need to hold on.”

“I don't,” she replied, smirking. He blushed again and kicked Jack into an easy trot.

They rode in silence, passing north at a leisurely pace. Star leaned her head against his back, watching the country scroll by and listening to his heartbeat. It seemed a little fast which made her smile to herself. It was a comfort to know he was about as nervous as she was.

They rode until they found a nice little hill somewhere between Dewberry and Ringneck Creeks. There was a nice view of the stars, but also a few trees to provide some privacy even though they were a decent stretch from the closest road. You just never knew who you'd run into.

They both dismounted and went about getting a camp together. Bill pitched a tent while Star worked on a fire. Once he was done, Bill joined her on the ground next to the flame, poking at it with a small stick. She glanced over at him and smiled. “Ok. So. We're out here.”

“Yep.”

“Mission accomplished?”

He sighed, then proceeded to poke her with the stick. “Will you be nice?”

She shied away from the implement, laughing. “Never.”

He smiled and returned to annoying the fire. “I brought you out here because I'm tired of worryin' 'bout the gang every time I even think to do anything with ya. Can't even look at ya too long without someone teasin' about it.”  
  
“True.”

“And... well... I... I figure it's about time I make my intentions pretty damn clear.” He paused, placing the stick onto the ground and scooting around to face her. She matched him, and waited for him to continue. “I ain't one for words and all that, but you are, so... I-I-I just wanna say... I am glad I met you. I'm glad you knocked some damn sense into me and made me see what a fool I was. Sometimes I still am, but least I know I got you to tell me. And I hope... I hope you're always gonna be there. 'Cuz... I'm always gonna want you there. Always. You're mine, and-and... I'm yours. For as long as you'll have me.”

It was a lot of words for a man of few words, and Star felt every single one of them deep in her chest. “I am glad we met too. You may be a fool, but you're my fool. Never knew that I needed one, but apparently I did.” She tore up some of the grass in front of her and ripped it absently in her hands. “I don't know what the future holds. I don't know if Dutch will take us West or North or across the sea. But wherever we go, I want to go with you.”

He took a deep breath, nodding slightly, then held out his hand, which she took. He gave a gentle tug that she responded to, rolling forward onto her knees, then using them to walk the small space between them. When she was directly in front of Bill, his free hand slid to her waist and pulled a little more. She put one knee on either side of his legs and moved forward, placing herself in his lap.

For a moment, he seemed to stare at her in wonder, as if he couldn't believe she was actually there. When she leaned down to claim his lips, however, his attention was recaptured. The hand on her waist gripped slightly harder, pulling her against him even more. She was glad for the closeness.

When she pulled away from his lips, she sighed softly and murmured, “Thečhíȟila kštó.”

His brow furrowed. “What's that mean?”

She smiled. “It means I love you.”

Some kind of dreamy emotion sparkled in Bill's eyes for a second, then he pulled her back to him with fervor not yet shown.

The first part of the night went slowly as they were both nervous and careful to make sure that what they were doing was acceptable, but once they had somewhat figured each other out, things got smoother. In any case, it had to have gone better than the night of Sean's party.

Bill's touches were rough in the heat of things, but it matched Star's fiery nature. They took turns between top and bottom, each finding something appealing about either role. Most of it was quiet, but Star couldn't hold back a moan or two which was exactly the sort of praise Bill didn't mind receiving. Her nails scratched lines down his back, earning her a moan or two as well.

When both were spent, gasping softly, eyes on the roof of the tent, the sun had just started to rise. Star glanced out at it, wondering if she was supposed to heed its usual call or not. There was nothing they had to do, so what was the point of getting up? Instead, she scooted over to put her head on Bill's chest, draping an arm over him as well. His fingers slid into her hair, then down her back, coming to rest on her hip.

“Now the mission's accomplished,” he mumbled sleepily. Star just laughed.

…. 

The pair stayed gone from camp for several days, using the sunlight to occupy themselves with hobbies and the moonlight to occupy themselves with each other. They shared a lot of laughs and stories and skills with one another, and they even snagged a few animals to bring back to camp. It wouldn't throw the gang off entirely from what they had really disappeared for, but it would hopefully keep some of the teasing to a minimum.

“How long before they just get over it?” Star had asked one day as she skinned and cleaned a rabbit.

Bill shook his head. “Ain't never gonna get over it. If it was anybody but me... maybe.”

It irked Star that some of the gang just couldn't see the potential for gentleness in Bill. They had latched onto viewing him as big and dumb and violent, not bothering to look any deeper than that, though they had minded Star's warnings about mocking him over it. A precious few had realized that if Star saw something, then there was good reason, and they had started spending more time around Bill actually getting to know him. It just didn't feel like enough.

When the pair rode back into camp, Lenny was on watch and greeted them with a wave and a smile. Little had changed around camp, making Star wonder if they could have stayed gone even longer without consequence. Whatever the case, they were back now.

She slipped down from Brown Jack, collecting her small take from the wilderness to deliver to Pearson. As she turned to go, however, Bill caught her hand and pulled her back for a lingering kiss. In full view of everyone. When he pulled away he murmured, “They can tease me all they like. They ain't gonna keep me from you.”

Star flushed pleasantly, walking the first couple of steps to Pearson's wagon backwards before finally spinning with a grin.

For the most part, Star heard nothing about their trip. Bill never said anything, but she had suspicions that one or two of the guys had talked to him about it. She decided not to press, trusting him to handle it however he deemed necessary. Besides, men had their own way of talking about such things, and she wasn't quite sure she understood it anyway.

Now that they were back in reality, they fell back into their work, chief of which was the Valentine bank job that Karen and Bill had been working on since Horseshoe. Star had no experience robbing a bank, but she sought to be helpful, mostly just joining in the conversation and offering up potential unforeseen issues. When it finally felt like the details were hammered out, it was time to get together a team.

Lenny volunteered the second Karen brought it up to him. Said he'd been itching to get out of camp for a while. Star said she'd come and keep an eye on the horses, assuring their getaway method. With that, they only really needed one more, and they all agreed that Arthur would be best.

The man spent a lot of his time away from camp, usually for long periods of time, so it became a waiting game. Thankfully, it wasn't too lengthy this time around.

One morning, Bill and Star were sitting in the back of one of the wagons, coincidentally chatting with Karen who stood, leaning on Star's leg. Much to their surprise, Arthur rode back into camp, looking ever so slightly worse for wear after being gone so long.

Star glanced at her companions and murmured, “Maybe we should wait...”

“We can't,” Karen replied. “It's end of the stock sales now. Place is gonna be burstin', but it won't stay that way. People like to spend their money.”

Bill nodded and called, “Hey, Arthur!”

Arthur made he way over to them. “What is it?”

“We got somethin' cookin' you might be interested in.”

Arthur sighed. “Am I gonna like the sound of this?”

Bill hopped down from the wagon. “Been cookin' since Horseshoe, but you went and kicked up all that commotion in Valentine. Now, we was preparin' to rob the bank there until you got involved in all that mess, and... I don't know, I just feel like it's unfinished business.”

Arthur held up a finger. “That wasn't my fault. It was just one of them things.”

Bill scowled indignantly. “How come every time _I_ get in trouble I'm called a fool and an idiot, but when _you_ get in trouble, oh, it's just one'a them things?”

“It's a good point, Arthur,” Lenny replied as he came over to join the conversation.

“A very good point,” Karen added.

Arthur looked around between them, eyes finally landing on Star, as if she might back him up. All he found was her shrugging and nodding. Realizing he was the odd one out, he cried, “Alright, well what do you want me to do?”

“Hit the god damn bank with us!” Karen replied, smiling and walking forward to straighten his jacket playfully.

Arthur scoffed a laugh, batting her away. “You really think it's worth goin' back there?”

“With the five of us, we can hit the bank easy! But, I ain't gonna lie to you. There will be law if we linger.”

“Anything serious?”

“No! Just local boys bein' rounded up and pressed into action.”

“Meanin'?”

“If we go in quick and quiet, we can hit it just fine. If there's five of us.”

Everyone fell silent as Arthur deliberated, dragging his fingers through his short beard. Bill replaced Karen, leaning against Star's leg and sharing a glance with her.

“And you all think this is worth the risk?” Arthur asked, looking between all of them.

“It's a bank, Arthur,” Star replied.

“So?” he countered. “Is the take good?”

Karen answered, “According to the fella I met, yes. It's the end of the stock sales. Plenty of money and plenty of people millin' about.”

Arthur sighed and shrugged. “Ok. I suppose. It's worth takin' a look, at least.”

Karen whooped, Lenny smiled, and Bill happily squeezed Star's calf. She shared a small, grateful smile with Arthur before putting her hands on Bill's shoulders to hop down.

“If I'm gonna be performin',” Karen said, grabbing a bundle from her things, “I better get changed outta these rags. A moment, gentlemen.”

Arthur took the black, leather jacket held out to him by Bill, commenting, “This better be good.”

“It is good!” Bill replied. “We put a lot of research into this one.”

“I hope so.”

As they made their way to the horses, Strauss pulled Arthur aside – something to do with the debt collections he was always sending Arthur on. The others went ahead, though Star cast a wary glance back at Strauss. He had always rubbed her the wrong way, but never enough to be cause for alarm. There was just an air about him that she didn't like, so she simply avoided him.

She was distracted from that train of thought when Bill started shoving one of the same black jackets onto her. “Why do I need one?” she asked, already feeling overheated and annoyed.

He paused, seeming to trip over his words for a moment. “Well... you... you got a pretty distinct... look about ya.”

She glanced down at her buckskin outfit and rolled her eyes slightly. “You mean I look native.”

“Well... yeah. Be a lot easier for someone to recognize us if they can say they seen a native girl with us.”

Star turned to look at him, then gestured vaguely at her face. He frowned, thought for a second, then proceeded to plop his hat onto her head. “There.”

That seemed to be the end of the conversation, whether Star liked it or not, so she just sighed and mounted up.

Arthur joined them momentarily, then Karen arrived, dressed to the hilt, calling, “Gentlemen, let's go rob ourselves a bank!”

“What's the plan, then?” Arthur asked, swinging up onto his buckskin Standardbred.

Bill replied, “We're gonna send Karen on in ahead as a distraction, then we're just gonna rush on in afterwards. Just a small bank in a little town, nothin' that big in way of security. We just need to bring you along as a... insurance policy.”

“Yeah, that sounds about right,” Arthur mused.

The group rode out of camp, kicking up some dust as they went, then turned North once they hit the road. Star was glad of the speed as it offered a breeze against the muggy air that the heavy jacket trapped against her body. She pulled Bill's hat down a little lower on her head, trying to keep it from catching the wind. He would never forgive her for losing such an integral part of _his_ look. Although, it said a lot that he would so easily relinquish it into her care.

After they had been riding for some time, Arthur called up, “Tell me again about this big, can't go wrong plan of yours!”

“Oh, it can go wrong,” Bill called back. “Anything can once the shootin' starts.”

“Well, that's reassuring!”

“Like I said, we'll see how it looks! If we can get in alright, we'll send Miss Jones ahead to the bank. They won't recognize her.”

“I'll show you boys how it's done!” Karen laughed.

Arthur chuckled. “What are you thinkin' this time?”

“I don't know. Fellers always like the lost little girl, but nobody plays the drunken harlot quite like me. Either should work. When I was scoutin' the place the other day, there was only a couple of guards.”

“We deal with them, and any customers who might be feelin' brave,” Bill said. “And you always fancy yourself the vault man, right, Arthur?”

“Now I see why you brought me,” Arthur grumbled.

“Hey, I'm more than willin'!”

“Nah... best I do it.”

Bill nodded his agreement before adding, “Oh, did Dutch tell you I've been cookin' up somethin' with them Gray boys?”

“What? No!”

Bill smirked. “See, you don't realize, Morgan, but I'm out there puttin' in the work, same as you. I been drinkin' with them a couple times now. Seems they're lookin' for some extra security.”

“I'm sure they are.”

“Could be somethin' in it for us!”

Arthur nodded a bit, but warned, “Be smart about it. We got a lot of irons in that fire right now.”

“I know!” Bill snapped.

Star watched the exchange, noting how easily Bill got defensive with Arthur, and it called back to the early days of her interest in him – how Arthur was a “son of Dutch” and Bill just... wasn't. It seemed that he hadn't lost that insecurity, and it made her sad. He was doing his part. He just didn't get the same praise for it, and he certainly never seemed to gain any trust. They always second-guessed him.

Some more of the ride passed in silence until Arthur remarked, “I can't believe you got me goin' back to Valentine.”

“Don't tell me it ain't irked you leavin' that bank behind,” Bill replied. “Work a town and not hit the bank? That's downright pathetic.”

“I think we went a bit beyond workin' it. We shot the place to hell.”

“ _You_ did, Morgan, not me. I played it cool up there.”

Star laughed and called, “Except that time you got thrown out of the saloon. Literally.”

Bill looked back at her with a scowl that just made her laugh again. “Alright, fine,” he countered. “Couple'a punch ups. Dealt with some O'Driscolls.”

“Is that right?” Arthur chuckled.

“Like I said: you mess up, it's just one'a them things. I mess up? I'm the prize idiot.”

“Well, Bill, I don't know what to tell you.”

“I'm surprised you ain't ribbed me about that dynamite again. One mistake, and I'll never live it down!”

“What dynamite?” Star asked, urging Rhiannon forward to ride side by side with the two men.

“He ain't told you?” Arthur asked.

“Oh, here we go!” Lenny called, laughing.

Bill grumbled and said, “I think this can wait until _after_ we rob the damn bank?”

“Fine, fine,” Arthur chuckled, “but you do gotta tell her. It's a hell of a story.”

“For _you_ maybe.”

It was just after noon when the group rode into Valentine. Bill led the way to the end of the street by the gunsmith. “Let's leave the horses here, off the main drag. Star, you stay with 'em, keep 'em calm. We're gonna be flyin' outta here in a hurry.”

“Understood.”

They all pulled up and dismounted. Star collected the reins of the horses, draping them over the posts of the white picket fence that looped the back of the shops. The others headed towards the street, but Bill lingered behind. “You keep your head down,” he murmured, handing her the reins for Brown Jack. “We'll be back right quick.” He pulled his hat a little lower on her, shrouding her face in shadow.

She smiled up at him. “I'll be here. Be careful.”

“Always.”

With that, Star was left alone with the horses. Most of them were content to nibble at the grass around their feet, but Rhiannon kept her attentions with her rider, nudging her a bit whenever Star would stop scratching her neck.

“Insistent today, aren't you?” Star chuckled softly, pulling the mare's face in close for a kiss on the nose. “Or are you just as nervous as I am?”

She couldn't deny that her heart rate was up, and her ears strained to hear any sign of trouble. Minutes oozed past, and Star kept checking the length of the shadows, worried that they'd been gone too long. And then, a shout.

“The bank's gettin' robbed!”

“Shit,” she breathed, moving to prepare all the horses to run.

“Come out now! If the shootin' starts, you're all dead!”

Suddenly, Karen's voice. “Don't shoot! Don't shoot, I'm... I made a terrible mistake.”

“Get outta there, miss!”

A pause. “Sorry, fellers.”

Gunshots followed immediately, spooking the horses a bit, but Star managed to speak to them in low tones, calling their names and putting a calming hand on them. They responded, but their eyes still showed white around the edges, and Star couldn't blame them for a second.

The shooting migrated down the street, and Star heard Arthur call, “Get to the horses!”

She jumped up onto her mare, holding the reins for the rest. As the others came barreling around the corner, she tossed the reins of each horse to their rider. They fielded shots and sent some flying back, and soon they were all mounted.

“Let's get the hell outta this god damn town!” Bill cried.

They galloped down the street and over the train tracks, out into the depths of the Heartlands. Law and volunteers chased them, raining bullets when they could. The outlaws sent just as many in the other direction. For a time, Star wasn't sure they were going to be able to outrun their tails, but as soon as she saw the train, she realized that they had to do.

“Across the tracks!” she commanded.

They all maneuvered that way, and sped across, narrowly missing the oncoming train that proceeded to block their pursuers as well as hide their movements. They rode hard for a little while longer, pulling off into some trees down the road.

Every single one of them were gasping for breath, but they all also had huge grins plastered on their faces from the thrill of the chase. All except Arthur, who managed to hide the smile from his face, but not his voice. “Alright, I think we lost 'em.”

“Thank you, gentlemen,” Karen laughed. “And lady. That was...”

“Stupid and dangerous. Thank you, Bill.”

“We're alive,” the other man laughed, accepting his share of the profts from Arthur. “And we're paid! I don't see the problem.”

“And that is the problem.” Bill just giggled. “Still, this is a very good take. Dutch'll be happy, even if it did come with a heap'a trouble.”

“It was fun!” Star retorted, utterly baffled by how she could have gone from anxious to bubbly in such a short and dangerous time.

“Well, maybe you're right. Now, go on! Get outta here! I have some other business to attend to. Don't head directly back to camp! And make sure you ain't followed!” he yelled at their backs as they rode off.

Lenny and Karen split off, saying their see you laters with a wave. Bill and Star turned east, somewhat instinctively ending up at the same spot they'd camped, just to kill some time before heading back to Clemens Point.

Bill jumped off his horse, laughing still from the absurdity of it all, and Star practically threw herself into his arms, laughing just as madly. He spun her around before planting her on the ground. “Now, ain't you glad you joined a bunch of good for nothin's?”

“Thieves, murderers, and degenerates – the lot of you,” she replied, wrapping her arms around his neck. “Wouldn't have wanted to run with anything less.” Of course, deep down, she would have preferred that circumstances had not led her to them at all, but it felt so far away now, and she wasn't sure that she wasn't meant to stumble into this gang.

“I'm proud of you,” Star murmured, watching as Bill blushed and looked away. “No, really. I'm not making fun.”

“Well... thanks.”

“You did good work on this one. Good research, good execution. Even built a good team.”

He shrugged. “Karen did a lot of it too.”

“I know she did. I'm just saying... what you did, you did well.” She reached up and put his hat back onto his head.

He sighed, slipping his hand to her cheek. “You still want to hear about the dynamite?”

“No. Whatever happened, I'm sure you did your best. Things don't always work out how we want them to. But sometimes they still work out.”

He stared at her, then picked her up by the legs, practically slammed her into the nearest tree, and kissed her like doing so was the only thing that might keep him alive. She was grateful for the jacket when kissing progressed to more. The bark of the tree might have rubbed all the skin from her back otherwise.

When Bill finished, he carefully placed her back on the ground and zipped back up, though neither of them were particularly sure-footed at that moment. She leaned back against the tree, and he leaned on it too, hands on either side of her shoulders. Since they were leaned so closely to one another, Star only had to make minimal effort to catch his lips once more, but this time it was softer.

He took a small, shuddering breath and said, “I... I just... I love you. I do.”

She put a hand on his chest, using his shirt to pull him closer. “And I you.”


	10. Chapter 10

Dutch ended up giving one of his speeches, thanking the bank crew for their contribution and efforts, urging everyone else to step up their game. Star had been sharing a log at the fire with Bill at the time and leaned into him when Dutch said their names, causing Bill to blush and look away, though she caught the smile on his face.

Spirits in the camp were high following the bank heist, and there was an air of progress that lingered. Maybe Dutch's dreams weren't quite so far-fetched as they sometimes sounded. In any case, people kept their doubts to themselves – even when the possibility of peace with Colm O'Driscoll came up.

Star had mostly stumbled onto that conversation, though Pearon's animated storytelling would've drawn just about anyone. She listened from a distance, knowing well enough to stay out of that which she did not understand. To her, the O'Driscolls were just a phantom threat that the gang muttered under their breath every once in a while. Even in Valentine she had somehow avoided running afoul of the rival gang.

“They want to parley?” Hosea called from the table where he sat with his book. “It's a trap!”

“Of course it's probably a trap,” Micah agreed, “but what have we got to lose finding out?”

“We get shot,” Arthur deadpanned.

Star went and joined Hosea at the table, glancing over at the men surrounding Dutch every once in a while. Hosea was holding his book, but his eyes weren't moving. He was eavesdropping as much as she was, and they shared a tiny smile over it.

Finally, Dutch walked over, shaking his head. “I killed Colm's brother. Long time ago. Then he killed... a woman I loved dear.”

Micah leaned on the back of Star's chair, causing her to stiffen. “As you say,” he drawled, “it's a long time ago, Dutch.”

Dutch deliberated for a long moment, eyes drifting out to the lake. With a heavy sigh, he decided, “Let's go. Micah and me, with Arthur protecting us. No one else!”

“What about me?” Pearson cried.

“This ain't the time for tigers, my friend.”

They all marched off, leaving Star and Hosea alone once more.

The woman's gaze slipped to the old man's, and she saw a profound worry creasing his brow. “What do you think, Hosea?”

He shook his head, gently closing the book in his hands. “It's a trap. We've known Colm a long time. He ain't the sort of man for peace. I don't know what Dutch hopes to get outta this, but it ain't gonna be nothin' good.”

Star looked over her shoulder, watching Dutch, Micah, and Arthur ride away. Anxiety wormed around in her chest, egged on by Hosea's doubts. She knew nothing about Colm O'Driscoll, but if Hosea didn't trust him, then she knew not to either.

“Maybe I should tail them,” she murmured. “Keep an eye out.”

“You could, but if Dutch spotted you, he'd have a fit.”

He was right, and she had no interest in bringing down the wrath of Dutch van der Linde over something like this. “Is there anything you can do besides sit and worry?”

Hosea sat back in his chair, then smiled and pushed his novel across the table. “Read a good book?”

Star chuckled and picked up the volume, examining the spine. “The Shrew of the Fog?”

“Just some crime novel Arthur found for me. You read much?”

“No,” she mused softly, flipping through the pages. “Not since school. If you can call it school. We were taught to speak and read in English. If we used Lakota, even among ourselves, we had our knuckles smacked with wood. It started as twigs... then it became sticks... then boards. Before long, the more defiant of the children were just getting beaten.” She gently pushed the book back across the table. “Never developed much of a taste for reading.”

“No, I expect not.” Hosea watched her for a moment, then reached out and pat her hand. “I'm glad you found us, Star.” He gave a soft smile before standing, stretching his back, and wandering off towards the stew pot.

Star watched him go, not even realizing that her worries had melted away. It was almost as though they hadn't existed to start with. Of course, nothing lasted forever.

Later that night, after dark, Dutch and Micah rode back into camp, alone. Star looked up from the bowl of stew she was nibbling on, eager to hear how things had gone, but Arthur's absence struck her odd. She got up and hurried to Dutch as he climbed down from The Count.

“Hey. How'd it go?”

“Worthless waste of time,” Dutch grumbled. “Talked about nothin', learned nothin', did nothin'.”

“So... are you still fighting?”

Dutch just shrugged and walked past her. She watched him go, confusion and worry constricting her breath. Micah sidled up next to her and followed her line of sight. “Thought it was gonna be more excitin' than it was,” he commented. “Don't even really know if it did anything at all.”

“Where's Arthur?” she asked tersely.

“Don't know that either. Said he would meet us at the crossroads when all was said and done. Didn't.”

Star turned to glare at him. “And you just left? You left him?!”

“Calm down, missy. He's a big boy, and he can handle himself.”

“If he didn't meet where you agreed to meet, did it ever occur to you that something might've gone wrong? Ignorant fool!” She stalked off after Dutch, calling, “You agreed to this?”

Dutch stopped and turned back, a weary but annoyed look on his face. “To what?”

“Leaving Arthur!”

“He's fine, Star.”

“But you can't know that!”

“I think I know Arthur Morgan better than _you_.”

Star was taken aback slightly at Dutch's tone, unaccustomed to such a bite. It must have shown on her face, because he softened when he continued. “If Arthur didn't meet us, he had reason enough, and I trust that he's got it under control. You needn't worry yourself.”

With that, it seemed the case was closed. Dutch went on his way, and Micah followed him, throwing a glance back at Star that might have been described as smug. She snarled under her breath and went back to her stew, though she had lost all interest in it.

As the night went on, Star kept her place at the table, looking up at the slightest noise outside of the camp's perimeter. Arthur never returned. Around 2am, Bill finally came looking for her.

“What're you doin'? Come to bed.”

She looked at him, then stood and started towards the horses. “Can't.”

“Why not?” he cried, following her.

“Something isn't right, Bill. Arthur should be back by now.”

“Well, you know him. Likes to stay out a long while, right?”

“Yes, but not after something like this.” She threw her saddle onto Rhiannon, pulling the cinch tight. “It's not like him to avoid camp after something so important.”

“Well... Dutch said...”

“I know what Dutch said. I think Dutch is wrong.”

Bill looked like she'd slapped him. “I... that's not... he wouldn't...”

“Arthur was the first, aside from Charles, to take me under his wing here. He's my friend. I'm going to go look for him. Now, you can either come or not, but I'm going.”

In the moonlight, one might almost say that Bill looked _afraid_. He looked over his shoulder at Dutch's tent, then back at Star, caught between the two forces of most influence in his life. “I... I just don't know if we should... if Dutch said...”

Star sighed, realizing that was her answer. It stung, but she understood it. Slender fingers wrapped around the edge of his leather jacket, pulling him in for a quick kiss. “Keep an eye on things while I'm gone, would you?”

“I... sure.”

She jumped up, threw a glance back at Bill, then rode off into the darkness.

The location of the meet had not been divulged, but it wasn't hard to follow the tracks that Dutch and Micah had left returning. Star followed them up into the Heartlands, then found the spot they'd waited for Arthur by Twin Stacks Pass. From there, she got down and retraced the tracks to the meeting place, then back again only to realize that Arthur had split off from them at some point on arrival.

The tracks from Arthur's horse led up to a ridge overlooking the plain. She followed them carefully, Rhiannon trailing behind her. The tracks ended at a ledge, and a small stain of blood marred the rock there.

“Shit,” she breathed, crouching lower to examine it.

The sun had begun to rise at that point, sparkling a shade of orange and illuminating another set of tracks – this time of several horses from the other direction up the ridge, and then down again.

Star stood, casting her dark eyes over the plains in slight panic. “They took him!”

It took her most of the day to track the horses from the ridge into West Elizabeth, only to lose them in a wooded area. From there, she was left with two choices: go back, or continue to search with absolutely no hint of where to go. In the moment, she panicked slightly, knowing that going back wasn't _really_ an option. She could not, in good faith, give up when she knew that Arthur was in trouble. That said, she did not know what to do next.

She did not know enough about the O'Driscolls to have any guesses where they might hole up. Even if she did, there was no guarantee that they hadn't moved house in light of everything going on. In order to feel like she was making progress, Star rode slowly south along the river, keeping an eye out for any movement.

Darkness fell as she rode, and the world around her became far more peaceful than she felt. Due to Arthur constantly having business outside of the camp, she didn't see him as much as she would have liked. He had been very caring when she first joined up, always asking after her and making sure that she had what she needed. Once she had settled in, he worried less, but still checked in. His presence meant safety and friendship, and she was not willing to let that go.

As it neared midnight, Star pulled Rhiannon up short. Down the bank a ways, there was a silhouette of a horse drinking from the river. The mist of the night obscured details, but the horse definitely did not have a rider. And there was definitely a heap lying next to it.

Cautiously, Star urged Rhiannon forward. As the horse ahead became clearer, Star recognized the buckskin coloring. A few steps more and the heap on the ground became recognizable too.

“Arthur!” she cried, leaping down and running to him.

He groaned as she rolled him over. Her eyes fell on a bullet wound in his shoulder that had been shoddily cauterized. It didn't look good. “Jesus,” she whispered. “Arthur, can you hear me?”

“Star?” he slurred, managing to open his eyes. “That you?”

“Yeah. What happened?”

“It was a trap. They... took me to lure in Dutch.”

Star's blood boiled briefly. Unless they had planned on sending an envoy, their plan might not have worked out. “Ok. Well, I can't get you onto the horse without help. Can you stand?”

“I'll try.”

Star wrapped her arms around Arthur's torso and hauled with all her strength, aided only slightly by Arthur's legs. They ended up back on the ground multiple times, but finally they got to their feet. Star helped Arthur hobble to Rhiannon, then helped him get a foot in the stirrup and pushed him up onto the animal. After taking a moment to catch her breath, Star got up in front of him.

“Hold on tight,” she told him, taking his arms and wrapping them around her. “It's going to be ok.”

With a whistle to Arthur's horse, Star sped off.

It was a rough ride, trying to keep Arthur seated and conscious. Star hadn't had time to fully assess his injuries and it seemed ill-advised to let him slip unconscious without knowing what effect it might have. She tried to get him to talk to her about things, but he was in so much pain that it felt cruel to make him speak. Still, he did his best.

It was around 5am when they rode back into camp. No one had yet begun to stir, but the sky was turning grey and yellow in the east. Star slid down, then turned to try and help Arthur. He attempted to control his descent, but had lost almost all energy, so he basically crashed into her, sending them both to the ground.

“Help!” Star bellowed. “I need some help here!”

Slowly, people began to emerge from their tents, sleepily rubbing at their eyes in confusion. Mary-Beth was the first to run over, crying Arthur's name in concern. Ms. Grimshaw followed soon after. It wasn't long before Dutch came racing over with Bill hot on his heels.

“Arthur? Oh, Arthur! My boy.”

Between the two of them, they managed to hoist Arthur off of Star and carry him to his cot. Arthur groaned out a few incomprehensible words while Ms. Grimshaw soothed him. “It's alright, Mr. Morgan. You're home. You're safe.”

“Ms. Grimshaw, will you... sit with him a while?” Dutch requested.

She nodded, pulling a chair to Arthur's bedside and taking his hand. Mary-Beth did the same, but sat at Arthur's head, petting back his hair. Star heaved a sigh which brought Dutch's attention to her. “What happened?” he demanded.

She wearily lifted her head to glare at him and coldly replied, “It was a fucking trap.”

Dutch stared after her in surprise as she marched off. Bill glanced between the two of them, then hurried after Star.

“Hey!” he called, jogging to keep up with her fevered pace. “What happened? Where did you go?”

Star didn't stop until they had left camp and were on the shore of the lake where she fished. And even then, she just paced up and down the sand in rage. “I told him something wasn't right. Arthur would've died. What kind of _father_ just leaves his so-called son?”

“Now, that ain't fair,” Bill countered, standing around the middle of her path, but keeping out of her way. “Dutch couldn't've known what happened. And Arthur can take care of himself. Weren't no reason for anyone to be worried.”

“He _said_ he would meet them. And then he did not. Arthur keeps his word, and if he doesn't, there is a reason and it is not good. Dutch should have known that.”

“Why are you so angry?”

She slammed to a stop, clenching and unclenching her fists as she desperately tried to put words to her feelings. “Because... because I was right. Because Arthur could have died. If Dutch knows so much... he never should have ridden away in the first place.”

Bill stared at the ground as she answered, then just shrugged. “I... I still don't understand.”

Star turned to him, sagging under the weight of her exhaustion and emotions. “I'm angry... because I'm afraid. If it could happen to Arthur... it could happen to any of us. And Dutch cares more about Arthur than anyone, but... he left him. If it were you or me... no one would come for us.”

“That ain't true,” he replied confidently, stepping up to take her hands in his. “You've got me, and Charles, and Arthur. Hell, I bet even Karen would ride out lookin' for ya. I dunno 'bout anyone else, but I know you'd come for me... and that's enough. Ain't no reason to be afraid.”

Star sighed, then just walked forward until she was pressed against him. He wrapped his arms around her, and leaned his head against hers. “Thank you,” she whispered.

“Course,” he murmured. “Now, come on. Bet you're tired.”

“Exhausted.”

“Did you sleep at all?”

“No.”

“Sounds like you.” He chuckled softly, taking her hand once more and leading her back to camp.

They passed unnoticed to the tent they now shared, slipped in and shut the flap. Star collapsed in a heap on her bedroll, nearly asleep already, but she stirred slightly as Bill joined her and pulled her into his arms. She smiled, curling against him and allowing the heat from his body to leech away the aches of the last two days.

It was a troubling turn of events. Dutch's attitude felt... off. While it was true that Star hadn't known him as long as the rest of the gang, he felt volatile – like a cornered animal. Quick to snap at friend and foe alike. It worried her. Dutch was the glue that held this ramshackle family together. If he changed... everything changed.

 


	11. Chapter 11

When Star woke up, late in the afternoon, she immediately occupied herself with seeing to Arthur. She relieved Ms. Grimshaw, giving the older woman a chance to eat and rest, but it was impossible to convince Mary-Beth to leave Arthur's side. She looked almost haggard from worry, but Star knew the signs as she saw them.

After sitting with Arthur for a while and realizing that he was not going to wake up any time soon, Star murmured, “Are you sweet on him, Mary-Beth?”

The young woman's eyes grew wide. “Why would you think somethin' like that?”

“I don't know. I've just seen you two talking around camp. Seen the way you look at him when he isn't looking. You haven't moved from that spot since I brought him back.”

“Oh, I don't know,” she sighed, slumping. “Seems silly when you put it like that.”

“I didn't mean for it to sound that way. I think it's nice.”

Mary-Beth shyly smiled. “You think so?”

“I do. Arthur needs something... warm to come home to. Everyone in this camp always needs something from him, but you... I think you give something back. Your stories and your dreams, they're a respite from the cold, hard world he lives in.” Star looked down at her injured friend and shrugged. “That's what I think, anyway.”

Some of the life had come back into Mary-Beth's frame. “Thank you, Star. For sayin' so.”

The pair sat together for a while longer before Mary-Beth finally gave in to her exhaustion and went to get some sleep. Star maintained her vigil alone for a while, checking Arthur's wound periodically. His cauterizing job had been haphazard, but it certainly had kept him alive. That said, the skin was burned horribly, and the gunshot itself was ugly and deep. Star sighed and pulled the shoulder of his shirt back up gently. There wasn't much she could do for him now.

Later in the evening, Star found herself joined by Dutch bearing a bowl of stew in each hand. He held one out to her, and she took it gratefully. He took the extra chair and pulled it around to sit beside her, joining in the watchful silence.

They ate peacefully for a while, but soon Dutch set aside his meal. “I came to say thank you,” he murmured. “If it weren't for your insistence, Arthur might have died out there. I was so caught up in my own troubles that I failed to consider those of others. I should have...” He paused, looking away in frustration. “I should've known somethin' was wrong.”

Star felt some relief knowing that his thoughts had aligned with her own. In any case, she was no longer angry with him, just concerned. “I don't know the history between you and Colm O'Driscoll like the rest, but from what I've heard, you had reason enough to be distracted. I acted out of anger that resulted from fear. It is the only way I know how to process fear. I'm sorry for questioning you.”

“You were right to do so. I was not in my right mind.” He reached out to put a hand on her shoulder. “Thank you for bringin' my son back to me.”

She nodded, and he rose to leave, taking their empty bowls with him. Much of Star's anxiety was soothed by the conversation. It was easy to believe that they had all simply acted while in a state of disarray that allowed for certain details to slip through the cracks. Dutch's willingness to come to her and talk about it made her heart swell with fondness and admiration for the man. Though she may not have hoped to fall in with a gang, she was grateful that it happened to be Dutch van der Linde's gang.

Not long after the sun fell, Ms. Grimshaw returned to take back the post of watchful eye. Star stood and stretched while relaying that Arthur had neither woken nor gotten worse. “Well, that's about what we expected,” Ms. Grimshaw replied. “It'll be a few days yet before we see much progress.”

Star excused herself, walking out to the dock to feel the slight breeze coming off the lake. She had faith that Arthur would recover. It would just take time.

If she was being honest, it took longer than she expected for the sound of Bill's heavy footsteps on the dock to occur. The wood beneath her shimmied slightly at the disturbance, causing her to smile softly. The poor thing was a ruin when they claimed it, but now they all walked on it as if it was built yesterday with the finest timber.

“Hey,” Bill greeted, hovering behind her.

“Hello.”

“Saw you and Dutch talkin' earlier. E-everything alright?”

She sighed and turned to him, nodding. “Yeah. Everything is fine.”

“That's... that's good. Don't know what I'd do if the two'a you was fightin'.”

The wringing of his hands struck his point home, and Star briefly felt sorry for having brought him such worry. She stepped forward to cover them with hers, easing their motions to a stop. “You would follow your own path,” she replied softly. “Neither Dutch nor I can force you to do anything. It is up to you to decide what matters and make your choices accordingly.”

“Well... yeah, but... just don't fight with Dutch no more.”

“I have no intentions of doing so. Besides, it wasn't even really a fight.”

“He was mad at you, you was mad at him. What about that ain't a fight?”

Star chuckled. “If an attempt was not made on his life, it wasn't a fight. It was a simple disagreement.”

Bill stared at her in frustration. “Now, why you gotta go and make everything so fancy and confusin'?”

“God. It's over, ok? Everything is fine. You don't have to worry anymore.”

“Well, alright, then,” he grumbled. “Could'a just said that.”

She just shook her head in amused disbelief. “Silly man,” Star teased softly.

“Who you callin' silly?” he replied, a mischievous light in his eye.

“You, I think.”

“Oh yeah?”

She opened her mouth to retort, but was rewarded with a mouthful of lake water when he pushed her off the dock. It took a moment of hectic struggling for her to realize what had happened and fight her way to the surface. Bill was chortling on the dock. “Who's silly now?” he called.

“Still you!” she replied, hurling an attack of water with her arms.

He fled down the dock, so she followed in the water. As soon as her feet hit land, she fought her way to the shore and started chasing him down. Even soaked through Star was far more swift, and Bill barely made it thirty yards down the beach before she crashed into him, dragging him into the sand.

It turned into an all out wrestling match accompanied by the sound of giggles and the occasional laugh of short-lived victory. Bill was easily stronger, but Star was more lithe and could wiggle out of his hold with the right amount of effort. Neither ever decisively won as both fell victim to happy exhaustion and just sort of gave up.

Star was covered, head to toe, in sand as it stuck to her wet body. Some of that had transferred to Bill, though the worst collection of sand was definitely his beard. Bathing was an inevitable conclusion, so they made their way back to camp to grab soap, ignoring the funny looks from the others.

Once they were back on the lake shore once more, Star playfully bumped into him as they walked. “Bet none of your army buddies ever thought they'd see you wrestling in the sand with an Indian girl.”

He snorted. “There's lots of things I done with you they never would'a thought.”

“True,” she giggled.

He smiled over at her. “What about your people? They ever think they'd see you with a man like me?”

“Not a chance. If I took you home, they would probably assume you'd forced me. Some would just accept that. Others would look to free me from you. In either case, you are the enemy, and no one is your friend.”

“Would they listen if you tried to explain?”

“Some would. Others would never see you as anything but a monster.”

Bill's tone grew somewhat sad. “Huh. Funny. Seems to me that... well... people where I'm from might think the same about you.”

Star nodded. “Hatred is not a path with only one direction. Although... your people started it by coming to this land and taking what was not theirs. All the way back to the beginning. If the white men had just stayed wherever it is they all came from... well...” She trailed off, not really knowing what her point was. It seemed useless to throw around blame anyway. There was no changing history.

They reached a nice secluded bathing spot, then began to strip down. Star paused when Bill shed his shirt, ultimately crossing the sand to him. When her fingers drifted over the scars on his back, he jumped slightly but didn't pull away. “Why did they do this to you?”

The silence between them was shorter than it might have been in the past, but it still took effort for Bill to tell her, “When... when they kicked me out... thought they'd whip it out of me – everything they thought was-was wrong with me. Didn't kill me. Just whipped me. So I'd always remember. It weren't right for me to-to-to love that man. Or grieve him. Or defend him. Of course,” he added, turning to face her, “they wouldn't exactly be too fond'a you either.”

A smile spread over Star's face, conjuring one on Bill's as well. “Stupid army,” she murmured.

….

It took a few days before Arthur woke up, and then the slow process of rehabilitating his shoulder began. Star was frequently by his side, hoping to help in some way. In the early days, she mostly just got snapped at, but as progress was made, Arthur grew less agitated and even apologized for his previous actions.

When Bill wasn't being sent into town to meet with the Grays, he was usually either at Star's side or hovering nearby, watching her and Arthur. Finally, Arthur commented on it.

“I think Bill might be jealous.”

“Why do you think that?” Star replied, twisting a new bandage around his shoulder.

Arthur chuckled and pointed at Bill who was sitting against the big tree, hat tipped low enough to almost be sleeping, but his eyes were just a little too visible in the shadow for that to be the case. “He ain't quit starin' at us since he got back from town.”

Star smiled, not even bothering to look. She'd noticed as well. “Can you blame him? I've spent every free moment with you for near two weeks now.”

“Why is that, by the way?” he asked, looking over his injured shoulder at her. “Only person been around more often is Mary-Beth.”

Shoulders rose and fell in a small shrug. “Just wanted to see you better is all.” Star's fingers slowed in their work as more serious thoughts crossed her mind. “I know we don't really see all that much of each other due to your frequent trips away from camp, but... well, I guess I wanted you to know that you mean a lot anyway. You were one of my first friends here, and I will not easily forget that.”

“Oh, yeah? And what about me?” a playfully insulted Irish lilt cut in as Sean wandered over.

“What about you?” Star countered, chuckling.

“I seen you over here, cozyin' up to big man English, talkin'a friendship, but ye ain't spared a moment for me in weeks.”

“And you thought Bill was jealous,” she snickered in Arthur's ear as she rose. “Well, Sean, it's not like you couldn't have come over and helped out.”

“Aye, well, I been busy. Arthur knows. He helped me burn them fields.”

“Ain't seen you do much else,” Arthur murmured, amusement in his eyes.

“Right!” Star agreed. “Poor Arthur got himself kidnapped and tortured and shot, and what have you been doing? Drinking the days away in Karen's arms?”

Sean squared up, arching an eyebrow. “Oh yeah? And what about you, then? Sharin' a tent with ol' Williamson, I see. If you ain't over here you're in there.”

“Yeah, because when I'm not over here I'm sleeping.”

“Course ye are.”

The sparkle in his eyes was contagious, causing Star to laugh and push him. “Oh, shut up, Sean. If you wanted to see me so badly, you only had to say so.”

He finally broke into a laugh, pushing her back slightly. “I'm only messin', Star. Anyways, when you're up to it, Arthur, there's talk of a meetin' in town with the Grays. It's Micah's and Bill's thing, but they asked me to come along and recruit you too. Just whenever you can.”

“Alright,” Arthur replied with a nod. “Give me a couple more days, but I'll come along.”

“No problem. I'll see you two later.” With a tip of his hat, Sean sauntered off once more, leaving the air much lighter than when he'd arrived.

“I do adore that boy,” Star mused, smiling.

Arthur scoffed, standing and working his shoulder into a couple rotations. “He's a menace. But he's alright.”

“Arthur Morgan, you're one grumpy bastard,” she laughed.

“That I am, but much less so thanks to your kindness and care over the last weeks. I can never thank you enough.”

“You don't have to. Like I said, we never get to spend any time together. It was nice to have you around for more than a day.”

He nodded, eyes falling to the dirt. “It was nice to be around. Even if I did have to get shot.” His eyes came back to her, soft and kind. “Now, get outta here and go tend to your sulking fella.”

“Yes, sir,” she replied with a salute.

Arthur just rolled his eyes and chased her off with his hat. “Go on, get!”

Star bounded away, laughing and allowing the warmth to fill her entire body. With Arthur more or less recovered, some of the hope had come back into the air like it had after the bank job. The camp felt happier and lighter, and so did Star.

She quickly crossed to where Bill still sat against the tree, still very unconvincingly 'asleep'. With her back against the tree, she used it to support her as she slid down its trunk until she was sitting next to him. Once she was settled, she caught him glance at her out of the corner of his eye, and it made her chuckle. “Arthur thinks you're getting jealous.”

“And if I was?” he murmured.

“I'd tell you to stop being an idiot.”

“And if I told you he's a better man and would treat you right?”

Star paused, realizing that the hypothetical patterns of speech were a mask for truth. Something painful stabbed her in the sternum. “Then... I would tell you that I'm plenty satisfied with the man I've got, and that he treats me fine.” She rolled up to straddle his lap and sit back onto his legs, tipping his hat back up his head to make him meet her gaze. “Do you think I'd let him get away with it if he didn't?”

Some of Bill's somber exterior broke and he snorted softly. “No.”

“No. So, don't you worry about Arthur or Sean or anyone else. Got it?”

“Got it.”

She sighed, drawing absent shapes on his chest with her index finger. “Good. Now, tell me about this thing with the Grays.”

“Right, well, I been drinkin' with 'em a few times, and it seems like they're lookin' for some extra security. Probably stemmin' from the shit Dutch and Hosea's been stirrin' up with them and the Braithwaites. Looks to be some easy money.”

“Hm.” Star pondered on that in silence for a moment. “I haven't heard what all Dutch and Hosea have been up to, but Sean told me about him and Arthur burning the Grays' fields _for_ the Braithwaites. Javier mentioned something about stealing horses _from_ the Braithwaites?”

“Yep. Playin' both sides, looks like.”

“Risky.”

“But good money if it works out.”

Some of the fear that had taken hold the night Arthur went missing wormed its way back into Star's insides. “What if it doesn't?"

“Dutch'll get it figured. Always does.”

There was no question in Bill's eyes, and Star both admired and feared his ability to so blindly trust someone. That level of loyalty could be the cause of both very good things and very bad things. However, Dutch had rarely proved unworthy of such trust, and his recent slip with Arthur felt understandable given the pressure he was under. “Well. You know better than I do.”

Bill chuckled. “That ain't somethin' I hear every day.”

Two days passed before Arthur decided he was ready to attend to the matter of the Grays. As the group made their way to mount up, Star followed behind Bill, holding his rifle for him as he mounted, then handing it up to him. “You boys watch your backs,” she warned, eyes slipping to each of them in turn.

“Don't you worry 'bout us none,” Sean told her with a wave. “We'll have your man back in time for supper.”

“It isn't just him I'm worried about, Sean.”

He shot her a wink and a grin before turning his horse to leave. “Come on, then, gents. Haven't got all day.”

Micah rode off after him. Arthur paused to give Star a reassuring nod, then followed suit. Bill looked down at her and said, “Stay outta trouble. If they come back without me, come lookin'.”

She laughed, ignoring the stab of fear in her gut. “You know I will. Go.”

He rode off, and Star waited until she couldn't see them anymore before turning to get some chores done.

As she tended to the horses, Kieran joined her to help. “Hi, Star,” he greeted, smiling.

“Hey, Kieran. You alright?”

“Sure.” He picked up a brush and started working the dirt out of Taima's coat. “You?”

“I'm... ok.”

The lanky man cast a knowing look in her direction. “You're worried about the boys in town, ain't ya?”

“That obvious?”

“A little.”

She smiled and shrugged. “I don't know. I get nervous every time someone leaves camp now. It feels safe here, with everyone I trust, but as soon as I can't see them anymore it's like... well, anything could happen to them.”

Kieran brushed quietly for a moment, then simply replied, “Well... that's life, ain't it?”

Star sighed and leaned against Silver Dollar. “It is. You're right. I know it's wasting energy to worry, but it's not something I can just stop doing. I've lost too many friends and family members.”

“I get it,” he answered kindly. “I think we all worry a little bit. Wouldn't be natural not to.”

A grateful smile crossed Star's face. “Thanks.”

He nodded, then added, “Hey, you wanna play some dominoes? Just to get your mind off'a things.”

“Sure, but you'll have to teach me how.”

He looked far more shocked than Star expected, causing her to giggle. “You ain't never played dominoes?”

“We never had any on the reservation. I don't think the government was fond of the idea of us having any fun. Not even white man fun.”

“Shit,” he breathed. “Well, come on, then. I'll show ya.”

The pair sat at the dominoes table and Kieran spent the next half hour explaining the rules and going through a few mock rounds to show how it was done. Once Star had the hang of it, they started playing for real.

“If you didn't have dominoes, what kind of games did you play?” he asked after a while.

“Well, I always preferred the games of dexterity. They usually involved skills required for good hunting. I was very good with a bow as a child, and when we would play a game called... well, the word doesn't directly translate. Basically, one child rolled a circle made from sticks, and the shooters would try to hit targets while also getting the arrow through the hoop.” She smiled. “I won a lot.”

“I bet you did. Sounds hard, though.”

“It was. It took time and practice for me to become any good.” She placed her last piece, then sat a second before realizing she'd won. “Oh! Domino! Yes?”

“Yeah,” Kieran laughed, counting out the pips on his pieces to add to her score. “Sure didn't take you long to get good at this one.”

“Well, it's mostly chance though, right? One cannot control which pieces they get.”

“That's true, I suppose.”

“Then there is no shame in losing. That is good. Sometimes it's nice... just to sit with friends.”

Kieran looked up, almost surprised to hear her call him friend. He even blushed slightly. It baffled Star a bit that he would be so shaken by her affection, but then again, she hadn't really noticed anyone in the gang going out of their way to make him comfortable. He was, after all, an O'Driscoll. Or used to be, anyway.

They were in the middle of another round when Kieran looked up at the sound of hooves. Star spun to look, and her body went rigid in abject horror. Micah Bell rode in alone. She turned to look at Kieran who just looked gobsmacked, then jumped up and ran to Micah as he dismounted.

“Where are the others?” she cried at a whisper, not wanting to alarm the whole camp.

Micah gave her half a sneer. “Don't worry, princess. Your boy is fine. He's waitin' for ya at the edge of the trees with Charles.”

“God damn it, Micah, tell me what happened.”

“Think I'll leave that honor to him. I gotta go tell Dutch.”

With that, he brushed past her. She watched him go for a moment, then turned and ran full speed to where Charles had been standing guard. Even from a distance she could see something draped over the back of Brown Jack, and that something looked enough like a body to make her feel sick. She pushed her speed to its maximum, nearly blowing right over Charles who caught her as she skidded to a stop.

“Easy, Star,” he murmured.

Bill came around the front of his horse, face splattered in smeared crimson droplets that were turning black in the heat. His white shirt bore similar markings – staining the fabric further with every passing moment.

Star took this in, then left Charles' arms for Bill's, throwing her own around his neck. “What the hell happened?” she whispered, touching the smears on his face.

“It was a trap,” he croaked, eyes traveling to the heap on Jack's back.

Star spun, taking in a shock of red hair for the first time. It was darker than it should have been due to the thick blood that wet it through, oozing from a gaping hole where more hair should have been. That same blood seeped into and stained a familiar blue jacket that clad an all too familiar man.

“Sean,” she whimpered, reaching to take his face in her hands.

The entry wound was just above his right eye, and she breezed her thumb over it, cursing the bullet that had done it and the man who'd fired it. Sweet Sean who'd always had a smile for her. The relentless flirt whose pick-up lines had made her groan from how terrible they were. Just a boy, a dashing rogue of a boy, with dreams and a future. All gone.

“Who's going to tell Karen?”

Charles replied, “I'm headed back to camp now. See what Dutch intends to do. I'll tell her.”

“I... I gotta bury him,” Bill said. “Was... was hopin' you'd come with me – help me find a spot he would'a liked.

“Ok,” she agreed softly.

Charles squeezed Star's shoulder as he left, and she turned back to Bill, noticing for the first time that some of the blood on him was his own. “You're hurt!”

“Only grazed me,” he assured her quickly, glancing at the wound on his shoulder. It was a deep graze, but it wasn't a threat to his life, so she forced herself to prioritize.

“Well, we need to put something on it later. So it doesn't get infected.” The words felt empty and bitter on her tongue. They were born of true concern, but nothing so menial felt right in the presence of Sean's body. “Let's... let's just get him buried first.”

Bill took the reins and started walking north along the road. “Where do you think we should go?”

Star fell in step beside him, thinking. “There's a little hill some ways north of camp. It overlooks the lake. Has some nice trees. Maybe there?”

He just shrugged and nodded.

They walked in silence for a while, but Star couldn't help but press for details. “What happened?”

“Apparently the Grays know we been workin' for the Braithwaites. Didn't like it.”

“So everything they told you when you were drinking with them was a cover to attack?”

“Seems that way. Might not've started that way, but... yeah.” He fell into a tense silence, then blurted, “It's my fault.”

“What?”

“I brought the job to Micah and asked him to come along. It was my idea. It's my fault Sean's dead.”

“How in the hell were you supposed to know it was a trap?”

“They set us up before with the horses, didn't like us none. Guess they found out about the farm burnin'.”

Star stopped, grabbing his arm and pulling him to one as well. “Bill, you could not have known they would betray you! What's brought this on?”

He looked down at his feet as he answered, “Well, Arthur... I dunno... Arthur said...”

Star felt a prickly anger rise in her chest, though she cooled it with logic. “He was upset. He didn't mean it. Surely.”

“He sure seemed to mean it.”

She stepped in front of him to fully claim his gaze. “He agreed to go with you, remember? If it had been so easy to see, then maybe he would have said something about it earlier. It is not your fault.” She slipped her hand to his face, and he leaned into it.

“You sure?”

“Yes.”

With that declared, they walked on.

The burial of Sean was an arduous process, but between the two of them, they managed to get a hole dug. Lowering him in gracefully was a struggle as well, but they got that done as best they could. While Bill refilled the hole, Star found some wood to make a cross and carved _RIP Sean MacGuire_ into the wood with her knife. Bill hammered it in at Sean's head, and then both of them stood back, staring at the results of their work.

“I don't know what the Irish do for their dead,” Star murmured.

“Well... they're Catholics... I think.”

“That means very little to me.” She sighed and crouched to put a hand on the raised mound of dirt, then began to sing softly in Lakota.

[_W_ _ó_ _kiksuye odowan_ _–_ my friend is gone.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EoxoqVd3K30)

 


	12. Chapter 12

The walk back to camp was spent in silence, and Star began to feel the weight of losing Sean. Her chest felt heavy, and breathing was a struggle. Her pace slowed, and Bill noticed. He slowed with her, taking her hand in his. Nothing was said, but he knew.

The camp was eerie and still when they arrived back. Everyone seemed to have split off to mourn in their own way. Arthur still hadn't returned, but knowing that he had survived the ambush and ridden away of his own free will was enough to keep Star from worrying.

Dutch pulled Bill aside to ask for his side of the story, so Star went on alone, taking Brown Jack with her. The horse seemed to notice her mood as much as his rider had, offering Star a gentle nudge with his nose. She scratched his neck as she removed his tack. “You did good, boy,” she murmured softly. He snorted.

Once Brown Jack was taken care of, Star found that she had no appetite for food or company, especially when she spied Mary-Beth crying by the lake. The tension that coiled so painfully behind Star's sternum would eventually have to be released, but she was not comfortable doing so in front of others.

She made her way to the tent she and Bill shared, letting the flap close behind her. Lacking anything productive to do, Star just sat on the ground, arms around her knees. Pressure built inside her, but she was not yet ready to deal with it. For a time, she just wanted to feel it. There was something exquisite about the searing pain of loss. Sometimes it was best to take the time to wallow in it. She was sure that some new horror would bear down on them eventually, and she wanted to have this out of the way before then.

When Bill entered, his gaze lingered on her briefly, but then he went about preparing for bed. It was early, really, but he seemed to have sensed that she had called the day done. Apparently, he had no intentions of leaving her to herself, and it made her heart squeeze in affection.

“Let me see your shoulder,” she murmured as he sat. He shrugged out of his shirt as she got up to kneel behind him, fingers poking gently at the red, swollen flesh surrounding the rip caused by the bullet. “Hand me my satchel.”

He did as told, and she fished around in it for some whiskey and the same poultice she'd used on his shoulders months ago. He flinched slightly when the whiskey hit his open skin, but he didn't pull away. Star dabbed carefully with a rag to get the excess, then put the poultice on the inflamed area around the wound.

As she worked, a drunk, melancholy voice floated through the muggy air to them. Karen seemed to have taken the news... well.

“ _But the heart throbs on as warmly now/ As when those summer nights were nigh/ Oh, the sun can never dip so low/ A down affection's cloudless sky/ A hundred months have passed, Lorena/ Since last I held that hand in mine/ And felt the pulse beat fast, Lorena/ Though mine beats faster far than thine..._ ”

Karen continued to sing, but it was at that point that Star finally lost her composure. Tears slid down her cheeks, landing on Bill's back. He seemed startled, and she hadn't given him much warning, but he quickly recovered and spun around to face her.

She sobbed quietly, shaking with each expulsion of her grief. For a second, Bill hovered in a place of insecurity, but he finally just reached out and grabbed her into his arms, pulling her into his lap. She sat on his legs and cried against his shoulder, allowing him to just engulf her as she crumpled. Though he had nothing to say, Bill's embrace said everything. If at first it was unsure, it faded immediately as the need to comfort her took over his body. She felt safe, despite all, wrapped up in him.

It took some time for the tears to stop, but when Star began to grow more still and quiet, Bill leaned her out slightly to brush away the salty remnants from her cheeks. She sniffled and looked away, murmuring, “Sorry.”

“What for?” he replied, brows crunching together in confusion.

She just gestured to herself with a shrug.

He let that sit a moment, then pulled her back to his chest. “Y'ain't gotta apologize for havin' feelin's, Star. Not to me. You... you're the first person I ever felt... safe enough around to say some'a the things I've said. And it might... it might kill me if you didn't feel safe enough with me to cry once in a while.”

Star's arms wound around him, and she wished she could simply be absorbed into him, at least for the night. Perhaps the morning would be better, but she did not want to face the future. She just wanted him and their little tent. No more, no less.

They fell asleep pressed as closely together as was physically possible, fingers entwined. Star slept fitfully, dreams full of shadows that hounded after her, but any time she woke, she found Bill at her side, usually snoring, but it was a significant comfort nonetheless.

When the sun rose, Star groaned softly. The world would spin on, regardless of Sean MacGuire's death, and the gang would be expected to do the same. The last thing she wanted to do was attend to chores while Dutch deliberated about his next move. She had half a mind to barge in on him and demand a response, but knowing the level of anxiety that would cause Bill deterred her.

She rolled over to face her lover, smiling wearily at how disheveled he'd become in sleep. His hair was generally a little wild to begin with, but in the mornings it was something else entirely. Her fingers gently passed through it, trying to tame it just a little bit to varying effect. He stirred and blinked sleepily at her. “What you doin'?”

“Have you ever considered some hair pomade?”

He grumbled and rolled away from her, causing her to grin and scoot until she was flush with his back. Her right arm slipped over his side to dangle, at least until he somewhat grudgingly gathered her hand into his and held.

Letting her eyes close once more, Star sighed and pressed a soft kiss to the wound on his shoulder. “Thank you,” she whispered. “For last night.”

“Course,” he murmured. “I know what it's like to hurt like that and... and not have no one. You always got me.”

“Same to you.”

Both fell back asleep for a short while before reality came crashing down. It was ultimately Ms. Grimshaw's usual harping that woke them again, and they knew it was pointless to try and ignore it. Both rose and dressed for the day, but just before they left the tent, Bill caught Star's elbow and pulled her in for a kiss. It was probably meant to be a short boost to start the day, but it turned into something longer and more meaningful.

“If you need me, come find me,” he told her when they finally pulled apart.

“I will. Thanks.” She pressed another quick kiss to his cheek, then pushed open the tent flap, pinning it up. Bill exited as she did so, squeezing her hip as he walked by. She just smiled.

The day passed in an unnervingly normal way. It was almost as though the gang was ignoring what had happened to Sean. Some of it felt like shame – if Dutch and Hosea hadn't pushed playing both sides in the search of some legendary gold, maybe it wouldn't have happened. If this. If that. Ultimately, Sean was dead, and the gang was going to have to make a move.

Karen was drunk before noon, which, in the past, had been Bill's gig. She quickly became unbearable, so Star stayed on the edges of camp with the horses most of the afternoon. The animals needed some hoof work, so she was easily occupied.

Not long after lunch, Star found little Jack standing in front of her looking a little sheepish. “Hi, Jack,” she greeted, putting down Boaz' foot to crouch in front of the boy. “What's going on?”

“Um... I heard you cryin' last night,” he said quietly. “Momma said I should make you somethin' to make you happy again, so I made you this.” He held out a chain of flowers. “It's a necklace!”

Star took the circle of little purple flowers, feeling her chest blossom with warmth. “Well, thank you! It's lovely.”

Jack smiled widely as she put it over her head. “You really like it?”

“Of course I do.”

Jack's face fell slightly and he kicked at the dirt beneath his feet. “Momma says Uncle Sean is dead.”

“Yeah. Yeah, he is.”

“Bad men killed him?”

“That's right. They lied and said they needed our help, but they attacked us and killed Sean.”

“Oh.” His big, innocent eyes look up at her. “I don't want anyone else to die.”

Star put a hand on his head, combing through his hair softly. “Me either. We'll be ok. You'll see. Now, run on and play, ok? But don't go too far.”

“Ok.”

Star stood and watched him go for a moment before returning her attention to Boaz. However, it was quickly stolen once more by the lingering presence of Charles and Bill in the corner of her eye. She finally turned to look at them, realizing at that point that they had been waiting for her to notice. Charles waved her over, so she put down her tools and joined them.

“What?”

“We're going hunting. Do you want to come?”

Star looked over her shoulder at camp. The heat and the tension practically made the air visible. “Yeah, ok. Better than hanging around here, anyway.”

The three gathered up their items, then mounted their horses and rode out of camp. No one asked where they were going or even acknowledged that they were leaving except Lenny, who was standing guard. He just wished them luck and waved.

Charles led the way to north-eastern Scarlet Meadows. The ride was silent, but Star decided that they'd all left for the same reason: camp was stifling. The three of them together would easily bag a couple deer with minimal effort, so it was entirely a trip to get away.

Star's chosen brother more than proved this when he pulled Taima to a stop, got down and just stretched. She hopped down as well, observing him with amusement. “Hunting, huh?” she asked.

His lips twitched into a soft smile. “Yeah. Hunting for some peace.”

Bill jumped down, and Star turned to him. “You were in on this?”

“It was his idea,” Charles said.

Bill shrugged as he unloaded a tent. “Kinda figured you wouldn't mind.”

“I don't. I'm just impressed.”

“Hey, sometimes... I have an idea, alright?”

She smiled. “Fair enough. So, what? We just stay out here for a day or two?”

“Why not?” Charles replied. “Between us, we'll get some food to take back, and no one will be the wiser.”

Star nodded, sharing a glance with Bill who blushed when he realized that she was recalling the last time they'd spent time away from camp together. She just smiled.

Charles and Star hunted a few rabbits to feed them that night, and they all settled around the campfire that Bill built. The night was mostly spent telling stories, and Star eventually asked, “What do you remember of your mother, Charles?”

The big man shrugged, taking a swig of whiskey. “I remember that she always wore her hair in a braid. She would sometimes weave feathers and flowers into it. She seemed to love my father, and he loved her. He was never the same after she got captured.”

Star nodded, ruminating on his answer. As she did, Bill said, “My momma was... well... she weren't too nice. Always liked my daddy better. 'Course, he drank himself to madness. I-I-I told you that story, right? How he mixed his drinks. By the time he died, he didn't know his left from his right. Bad business.”

“My father fell to drink as well, though who knows what killed him. I ran away when I was twelve.”

Bill nodded. “Weren't much older when I left. Fifteen maybe. Wandered around for a while, thievin' and beggin' just to eat. Then I joined the army. That was worse.”

As the two men swapped stories, Star looked between them. There was a time when they might never have said a word to one another, yet here they were, sharing intimate details. While there was a part of her that wanted to take credit for it, the truth of the matter was that there had been a good man hiding in Bill all along. He'd just never felt secure enough to show it.

When it grew late enough, they turned in, and Star finally felt some of the weight leave her.

….

The next day, Star and Charles tracked down a couple deer to take back. Once they were secured onto the horses, the group made the decision to go ahead and return to camp. If nothing else, the deer for stew might lift a few spirits.

When they arrived back, there was no one on guard, and that was immediately troubling. They all exchanged glances, then hurried through the trees to camp. There was a group of people standing outside of Dutch's tent, Arthur among them. Voices seemed agitated and fearful.

Star hurried to Kieran who stood nervously at a distance. “What's going on?”

Kieran jumped when she spoke, putting a hand to his heart. “Jesus. When'd you get back?”

“Just now. What's happening?”

“It's... it's little Jack.”

“What about him?” Charles pressed.

“He's missin'. They think the Braithwaites took him. I seen a couple'a strange fellers lurkin' about earlier. Didn't cause no trouble at the time, but... I guess...” His eyes fell, and he fidgeted with his hands.

Star put a hand on his shoulder, turning to look at Bill and Charles. The latter had his usual calm demeanor about him though his jaw had clenched, but Bill had gone into a full protective rage mode that Star had never seen before. Even she was slightly taken aback by the hostility that had begun radiating off him. But, to be fair, she felt the same.

Dutch marched off towards his horse crying, “I will get that boy back, so help me God... right now!”

Before Star even had time to react, Bill ran forward calling, “Dutch! We just heard about Jack. You need some extra guns?”

“Why not?” Their leader replied with a nod. “Micah, Kieran, if anybody strange turns up, kill 'em! The rest'a you, let's ride!”

Every man that wasn't Micah or Kieran mounted up, and Star joined them, already feeling a fiery anger burning through her veins. The necklace Jack had made her was still in one of her saddlebags. He was an innocent child. What kind of monsters made a child pay for the actions of men? All things considered, Star had decided she did not like the South.

The sun dipped below the horizon as they rode out, and a heavy fog fell over the countryside. The air was thick, though it started to cool almost as soon as the sun disappeared. However, the heat seemed to follow the gang, fueled by their anger alone.

“They must've figured out what we was up to, Dutch!” Hosea called.

“Yeah,” Arthur replied. “We got shot to hell by the Grays in town.”

Dutch replied, “I know. I heard. About Sean too. I don't even want to think about that right now. We have to focus on Jack.”

It was almost as if Dutch had taken the thoughts from Star's head word for word and put voice to them. This was exactly the new horror she had wanted to be prepared for. Thanks to Bill and Charles, she was. Grief had turned to rage, and god help whatever back country hick crossed her path now.

John snarled, “I swear, I'll kill everyone there!”

“Easy, John. Try to stay calm!” Dutch soothed. “We gotta keep our heads about this.”

“How the hell did they get to him?!” Star snapped.

“I don't know, but we will get him back, and we will make them pay. I promise you that.”

“What about the gold?” Javier asked.

“Who gives a damn about the gold? They got Jack!” John cried.

With a sigh, Hosea answered, “I hate to break it to ya, but I don't think there is any gold. Or, if there is, it's hidden somewhere no one knows. I've turned every stone.”

“For Christ's sake, Hosea!” John roared. “After all that? Another perfect scam.”

If anything, it was nice to see John finally coming into his role as concerned father for the boy. Star had been waiting and hoping to see it one day. While it wasn't ideal, scaring him into it was working.

“We underestimated them,” Hosea murmured.

“No!” Dutch cut in firmly. “They underestimated us. Enough talk. There is no point arguing how we got here. This is where we are. And we are going to fix it. So come on!”

That was the final word on that, so everyone concentrated on riding and stewing in their indignant anger. The further they went, the more Star felt it burn. It wasn't even the Braithwaites that had killed Sean, but they were going to pay for him too. It didn't matter which snob-nosed white family had committed which crime – they were all the same to her, and they would die for it.

The group passed through some trees, rounding a bend that exposed the elegant driveway leading to Braithwaite Manor. Large, very old trees lined the path, and their branches created a sweeping arc overhead. It was the epitome of wealth and status, and Star immediately felt the urge to chop it all down. Of course, that would be highly disrespectful to the trees, so perhaps the house would have to do.

The manor itself was old yet opulent, at least to her eye. It was two stories, with wrap-around balconies and columns. She'd never seen anything like it, and all she wanted was to tear it down.

As they started down the path, Dutch called, “Ok, get your heads right. Nobody makes a move until I say so. Dismount and come to me!”

They came to a stop, each person jumping down and retrieving weapons from their saddles. Star pulled out the Bolt Action Rifle she'd been given as well as checking to make sure she had her pistol and knife. Once she was satisfied, she joined Dutch by the walled entrance.

“You sure you're ok, John?” Dutch asked.

“I'm fine,” the younger man growled, adjusting his grip on his gun.

“Alright, then. Follow me. These redneck families think they can ruin us? I don't think so.”

The gang fell in behind Dutch, ultimately swinging outwards into a V formation. Star walked between Bill and Arthur on Dutch's left, fingers gripping her gun so hard that her knuckles had gone white. The air crackled with anticipation, raising the hairs on her arms, but in that moment, Star's confidence in Dutch and this attack was all she needed.

“There they are,” Hosea pointed out as several men exited the house, waiting on the porch for them.

“Who steals a god damn boy?” Dutch snarled, his voice rumbling deep in his chest.

“I'm gonna let fly at them sons'a bitches,” John hissed through clenched teeth.

“John, I need you calm,” Dutch told him before proceeding to yell, “Get down here now!! You inbred trash!”

“What the hell do you want?” one of the men on the porch replied with a sneer.

The gang spread out on the front lawn, taking positions within running distance of cover, but positions that also allowed for easy firing. Star stood just slightly ahead of Arthur, brown eyes taking count of the Braithwaites. She counted at least six already outside which gave the gang an upper hand, but there were undoubtedly more inside the house.

“We've come for the boy,” Dutch announced, stepping ahead of everyone. “You must have known we would.”

“Shouldn't have messed in our business now, should ya?”

Dutch took a sharp breath through his nose. “Whatever complaint you have with us... alleged or otherwise... that is a young boy. That is not the way you do things. Hand him over.”

“Get _the hell_ off our land.”

Four or five more men came through the doors on both floors of the house, quickly outnumbering the gang. Star's grip on her gun came just short of causing the wood to creak beneath the strain. The silence that hung in the air was _dangerous._ Even the night birds had fled, though a crow or two had perched on the branches of the great trees.

Dutch's gaze swept the porches briefly, then, calmly, he replied, “If you ain't gonna be civilized about this...”

The initial shots from Dutch's guns alone took out three Braithwaites. Rage seemed to somehow increase his accuracy as he shot without care, dual-wielding, smoothly sweeping his arms between targets who then fell as commanded. The rest of the gang began firing after the initial shock and awe wore off.

Star skidded behind a parked wagon, firing around the corner. Even if she missed, her bullets would embed into the wood of the house or shatter a window, and she counted that as a victory. To mar the great legacy of these cretins was as satisfying as massacring their progeny.

Within a few short seconds, the Braithwaites present on the balconies were dead. Dutch was already moving up to storm the house. “Arthur, John, Hosea with me! The rest'a you, stay here and watch for any more arrivals.” He ran up, kicking in the door. “Get in there! Find Jack. And find that Braithwaite woman!”

Dutch's voice was so full of rage that it broke, like water on rocks. Every note of his anger flooded through Star, causing her blood to sing. It was dizzying, being so led by his every move. Was this why his gang followed him so loyally? Did they all feel his conviction rolling off him in waves? She had never known anything like it.

While the four of them ran into the house, Star turned her attentions to the fog surrounding the manor. Bill shadowed her as she paced, eyes prowling for the first sign of trouble.

It was ultimately Charles who saw the riders first, calling, “We got more coming in!”

Murky torch flames sped down the driveway, making the targets all too easy to spot. Star went down on one knee to steady her aim, sending a bullet ripping through the skull of one of the riders. _For Sean_. The others easily took down the rest, but Javier called, “They're in the fields!”

Star jumped up and sprinted around the house to face the orchard. These targets weren't bearing torches, so they were harder to see, but she was a trained hunter. Flickers of movement drew her eye, and the moonlight created just enough shadows.

Her desire for the thrill of the hunt caused her to drop her gun, pull her knife from her boot, and slip into the trees. She whispered through the fog, slitting throats and watering the peaches with blood. The Braithwaites couldn't see her coming, and neither could her friends as they fired skillfully in her direction yet never hit her.

It took very little time to send the Braithwaites running. Star took the time to drive her knife through the temple of one of them, but let the rest go. As she exited the orchard, the guns of the gang came up to face her until Charles cried, “Hold! It's Star!”

Slowly, gun barrels fell away from her, replaced by stares of shock. She could only imagine what she looked like, but if it was anything like she felt, it was probably horrific. Blood dripped down her face and knife arm, staining her clothes and painting her skin a sickening crimson.

As she walked down the line, back towards the front of the house, she felt their surprise. It almost smacked of _fear_. None of them had thought her the type. But, then again, none of them really knew her to begin with. There were stories she had not told. Not to Bill, not to Charles. No one knew. In short, she did not advise threatening her family.

The gang moved back to the front of the house, watching as John and Hosea set fire to the first floor. Dutch marched out of the house with the Braithwaite woman slung over his shoulder like a sack. Arthur followed behind.

“Put me down, you damn yankee!” the woman screeched.

Dutch heaved her to the ground with a sneering, “There ya go,” then drew his gun to hold on her.

“I never liked you,” she directed at Hosea.

“Why'd you take the boy, Mrs. Braithwaite?”

“You stole my liquor! You stole my horses!”

“Boys are off limits!”

“Ain't no rules in war, Mr...”

“Matthews!”

“Yes. That's it.”

Hosea crouched down low. “Where's the boy?”

Suddenly gathering strength, the old woman sat up and snarled, “My sons gave him to Angelo Bronte. So my guess is Saint Denis. Either there or the boat to Italy!”

Hosea's lip curled, then he stood back up and marched off. “Let's go!” he announced.

“What about her?” Arthur called.

“Leave her,” Dutch declared.

The Van Der Linde gang walked away, leaving a burning legacy in their wake – a signal fire to the world: **_Do not threaten us, or we will destroy you_**.

 


	13. Chapter 13

The gang rode hard and fast back to Clemens Point. While they wanted to leave an impression, they couldn't afford another altercation with the Grays. Everyone was too fired up. There likely wasn't a clear head among them.

Star could feel the eyes of Bill and Charles on her as they rode, but the moment she had entered the orchard, she'd hardened herself. This was a part of her they had not seen, but she was not so unfamiliar with it. While it was inevitable that questions would be asked, she would force them to come to her, and even then... could she tell them?

As the gang blew back into camp, the women came running. Abigail wailed about Jack while Ms. Grimshaw demanded to know everything. Her eyes caught on Star as the younger woman hitched her horse, and she practically shrieked, “What the hell happened to her?!”

Star pushed by without a word while Charles murmured, “It's not her blood.”

The Lakota woman pressed through camp to the lake shore. When she reached the water, she knelt in it, cupping some of it into her hands to look at her reflection. Blood spattered her face and hair. It had clotted and looked like a paste. As memories flashed behind her eyes, she submerged her entire head into the lake, shaking it about. As her hair became cleaner, it whipped around her as though it possessed life. When she couldn't hold her breath a moment more, she broke the surface with a gasp.

Now her hair was stuck to her face and head, dripping water down her body – causing the blood on her clothes to run and stain. She sat in the water, breathing heavily and feeling the tendrils of purity attempt to wash clean what she had done.

Before she knew it, her heaving breaths had become sobs. Tears fell down her face, splashing into the lake around her. Nothing living dared come near her... save for one.

Charles sat in the water with her, pulling her into his arms. She leaned against him and let out the pain and the fear that had all been brought rushing back to the surface. Her skin tingled with the memory of it.

“Tell me,” Charles murmured, petting back her hair.

She sniffed, trying to regain control of her voice. This was a story she had told no one. It felt that if she spoke it into existence then it became true, but perhaps that was what was needed. Perhaps it needed to finally be true and not a nightmare that dogged her steps.

“When I was young, children would go missing from our village. It was always assumed that the white men were taking them, though no one knew why. Perhaps to be sold as slaves to people like the Braithwaites or the Grays. They were never seen again.”

Her fingers tangled in Charles' shirt, holding to him for fear of being swept away by the past. “I... I caught them in the act once. I followed them.” Her grip grew tighter. “They did not sell this boy. They... they tortured him. With knifes and hot iron. All night I listened to him scream and could not bring myself to move. I was so afraid that they would do the same to me that I hid in the bushes until long after they had killed him and left.”

Charles' grip on her grew tighter – more protective. “They left him to rot on the plains. And so did I. I could not bring myself to carry him back, knowing that I had allowed his death. When I got back to the village, everyone flocked around me, asking if I had been taken or if I had seen the other boy. I... I lied. I told them that I had gotten lost. They thought nothing of it. But the look on his parents' faces has never left my mind. Nor have his screams.”

“How old were you?”

“Seven or eight.”

Charles sighed, holding her head against his chest. “Tȟaŋkší,” he softly whispered in her native tongue. “It was not your fault. You were a child.”

“I can't let it happen again, Charles. Jack is just... he's just a boy.”

“It  _won't_. We know where he is, and we are going to save him. Star, hear me. It will not happen again.”

Though his words rang true and bolstered her confidence, Star broke into tears once more, clinging to him desperately. He simply picked her up and carried her back to his bedroll which he distanced from the camp, placing it near the farthest fire. He sat her down, and told her to dry off – that he would be back.

She sat next to the fire, arms around her knees, as she waited. The heat of the flames went to work sapping the wetness from her hair and clothes, though she had mostly gone numb to all of it. The truth was free from the prison she'd locked it in, but it had fried each of her nerves on its way out.

Charles approached from behind, but his footsteps paused and low voices that she was not meant to hear carried to her. “How is she?” Bill asked, his tone full of worry.

“She's hurting. It is probably best... if she stays with me tonight.”

“...alright. If-if that's what you think is best. Did... did she tell you why...?”

“Yes. And in time, she will tell you too, but for now... give her space.”

“Sure.” There was a pause, then, “I... I really love her.”

“I know. She will need that love soon, but right now she needs rest. And so do you.”

“Ok. Goodnight, Charles.”

“Goodnight, Bill.”

With that, one pair of footsteps walked away, and the other closed the rest of the distance to Star. Charles sat beside her, offering her a bottle of whiskey which she took and drank a long swig from. Anything to help sleep come faster.

“It's going to be alright, Star,” Charles told her, rubbing her back. “You were brave to tell me what happened.”

“I've never told anyone,” she replied at a whisper.

“I know. Are you dry now?” She shrugged. “Try to sleep. I'll stay with you.”

Without any more prodding, Star scooted into the bedroll, laying on her side. Charles laid on his back beside her, his shoulder gently pressed between her shoulders. The contact was soothing. As the alcohol went to work, Star drifted off to sleep.

….

When the sun rose, Charles got up, but he pulled the blanket up around Star. She stirred slightly, recognizing the gesture, before falling back asleep. There was no knowing if Charles had slept at all, but his presence had kept the monsters at bay, so she could be nothing but thankful.

The gang left her alone, and she slept until late in the morning. When she woke for good, she sat up and worked out the kinks in her body. Her clothes were a horrific mess, still a mix of blood and lake water and dirt, so she went to go find new ones.

After she changed, she dragged a comb through her hair, tying it back in a braid. It really needed a proper washing with soap, but that could wait. Who was she trying to impress anyway?

Once she deemed herself presentable, she left her tent to find food. The stew wasn't quite ready, so she took a can of peaches from Pearson's wagon, swiped a fork, then looked around for Bill. He was sitting against the tree again, so she went over and slipped down next to him.

He looked over at her when she arrived, but they sat silently while she opened her breakfast and ate a few pieces. It was fairly obvious that he was nervous about beginning the conversation, likely due to what Charles had told him the night before, so it made all the difference when he finally spoke up. “You ok?”

She sighed, sitting the peaches on the ground between her criss-crossed legs. “No. But I'm going to be.”

He nodded before wrapping an arm around her shoulders and pulling her closer. She leaned against him contently, already feeling some peace come back to her bones. In time she would be ready to tell Bill the story she had told Charles, but for now it was good to know he was present regardless.

The spent most of the day together, quietly talking under the tree. Star was a little clingier than usual, but Bill didn't seem to mind. More than once, someone came over to check on her, and she mostly gave a generic  _I'm fine_ , however, when Dutch approached, he didn't seem prepared to accept that as an answer.

“How are you, Miss Star?” he asked, crouching down in front of her.

“I'm... alright.”

His brow arched. “Now, we both know that ain't true.”

“What do you want me to say?”

For a moment, he let that sit, then shrugged and nodded. “Fair point.”

“Whatever comes next... you can count on me, Dutch. I wish... I wish there'd been someone like you when I was young. Someone to ride in and destroy anyone who would harm me or my friends.”

A soft smile graced Dutch's features. “Well, miss, I'm here now.” He pat her knee, then stood and left.

Bill watched him go, then turned to Star. “Seems to me like you did pretty good destroyin' your enemies as was.”

“Yeah,” she agreed softly, “but it would have been nice not to.”

Afternoon faded into early evening, and Star finally went to go check on Rhiannon after the stress of the night before. The mare was happily chomping on some hay, nickering quietly when Star approached.

“Hello, lovely,” Star whispered, running her nails along the horse's coat. “You need a bath as much as I do.”

She spent about twenty minutes with a brush, working Rhiannon's coat to a shine. Just as she decided she was happy with it, a voice caught her attention and the attention of everyone in camp. “Hey, Dutch! We got a problem!”

Lenny was walking into camp with his gun trained on two Pinkerton agents. Star's insides froze, and she hurried around the horses towards the middle of camp where everyone was gathering. Bill met her, pressing protectively close.

“Not a problem,” the Pinkerton in charge replied. “Visitors! A solution.” He cast his gaze around, smirking. “Good day, fine people. Mr. Van Der Linde. Mr. Matthews, I presume.” His eyes landed on John. “And who are you?”

John squared up, crossing his arms over his chest. “Rip Van Winkle.”

“Uh huh. Well, allow me to introduce myself. Agent Milton, Pinkerton Detective Agency. This is Agent Ross,” he said, gesturing to the man at his side. When Arthur stepped up, he went on, “Ah, Mr. Morgan, nice to see you again.”

Dutch, his voice brittle with annoyance cut in, “And to what do we owe the pleasure, Agent Moron?”

“I don't know if you're aware, but this... this is a civilized land now. We didn't kill all them...” His eyes landed on Star. “... savages... only to allow the likes of you to act like human dignity and basic decency was outmoded or not yet invented.”

Bill stepped partially in front of Star, shielding her from the man's hostile gaze, and for a moment, she feared he might punch him. Milton's smirk grew wider.

“This thing,” he announced, returning his attentions to all, “it's done.”

Dutch rose from his place at the table. “This place ain't no such thing as civilized. It's man so in love with greed he has forgotten himself and found only appetites.”

“And as a consequence, that lets you take what you please, kill whom you please, and hang the rest of us? Who made you the messiah to these lost souls you've led so horribly astray?”

“I'm nothin' but a seeker, Mr. Milton.”

“You ain't much of anything more than a killer, Mr. Van Der Linde. But. I came to make a deal. It's time. You come with me, and I give the rest of ya three days to run off, disappear, and go and live like human beings someplace else.”

There was a moment of silence before Dutch, amusement in his voice, asked, “You came for me? Risked life and limb in this den of lowlifes and murderers so that they might live and love? Well. Ain't that fine.”

A couple chuckles bounced around the gang, obviously raising Milton's hackles slightly. “I don't wanna kill all these folks, Dutch. Just. You.”

Dutch nodded, holding up his hands. “In that case, it would be my honor to join you. Excuse me, friends. I have an appointment to keep with...”

He was silenced by the sounds of every available weapon cocking. Star's hand slipped to her pistol, drawing it and pulling back the hammer, though she left it resting against her hip. Beside her, Bill's rifle raised slightly.

A tense moment of silence followed before Ms. Grimshaw declared, “I think your new friends should leave now, Dutch.”

“You're making a big mistake,” Milton spat. “All of you.”

Dutch laughed. “Yeah. Dreadful. We have got something – something to live and die for. How awful for us, Mr. Milton.” He stepped close to the Pinkerton, his voice deepening into threat. “Stop following us. We'll be gone soon.”

Milton eyed him with spite. “I'm afraid I can't do that. And when I return I'll be with fifty men. All of you will die! Run away from this place, you fools! Run!”

Lenny stepped forward to show them out, grabbing Milton's arm. “Come on.”

“Get your damn hands off me, boy.” With that, he sneered at them all, spun on his heel, and marched out.

Once they were out of earshot, Arthur sighed, “What now?”

“We get outta here,” Dutch answered. “Quick. Any ideas?”

“I know a big ol' house hidden in the swamps outside Saint Denis. I'm sure they'll find us eventually, but it should buy us a few days.”

“A few days is all we need.”

“It's a spot out by Shady Belle. Lenny and I got into that... dispute with the previous occupants. Place is well hidden.”

Dutch nodded, then put a hand on John's shoulder. “You and Arthur ride out and make sure no one else has moved in. Lenny, go follow those fools outta here, make sure they leave. We'll get Jack back, and we'll get gone. The rest of you get packin'!”

The group splintered to do as they were told, but Star stayed put, replacing her gun in its holster. Bill stayed with her, eyes on the woods where the Pinkertons had disappeared. “Who you callin' savages?” he muttered angrily.

Though Star had been caught up in introspection, that one sentence caused her to chuckle softly. “Come on, Bill. Let's get the horses ready.”

They went about their work quickly and mostly quietly. Star spent a lot of that time in her own head. Would the Pinkertons have actually let them go if they'd turned in Dutch? She was not quick to trust the government, but it was an interesting question. In any case, it wasn't even an option. Milton called Dutch a messiah, and in some ways he was. Every person in the gang had a dream of freedom, and Dutch had been the one to put words and actions to that dream. A man with that much influence was certainly no ordinary man.

Besides, she had come to care a lot about their leader. Though she did not spend much of her free time with him, she had observed from afar, and his love for his gang was obvious. He had taken her in when she was alone, and he had offered her respect that many other white men would not have. As long as Dutch was loyal to his family, Star would return that loyalty, and she couldn't see that changing any time soon. Even if the Pinkertons came for them.

“Sure are quiet over there,” Bill called from where he was loading tack onto one of the wagons.

“Just thinking,” she answered, hurling a bale of hay.

“Oh, well, guess I better stay outta that. Never been too good at thinkin'.”

She smiled and shook her head. “Shut up, you fool.”

“Oh, now you're gonna tease me? After all that work you did, tryin' to get the others to knock it off, here you come, just...”

She jogged over the ground, gently grabbing his beard to pull him into a kiss. “I said, shut up.”

“Ow,” he replied, swatting her hand away, though even his beard couldn't hide the grin he was fighting.

“I was just thinking that... well... whatever happens, as long as Dutch is with us... I'm with him.”

Bill smiled a bit. “Good.”


	14. Chapter 14

The caravan rattled out of Clemens Point, leaving the land slightly scarred behind it. It seemed that no matter where the Van Der Linde gang settled they left a mark, good or bad.

Star sat with Bill on the wagon he was driving, keeping an eye on all the horses that weren't being ridden. They mostly filed along, now unfortunately accustomed to this shifting camp ordeal. Once she was satisfied that they were alright, she settled next to her companion and allowed her eyes to drift over the country. The farther they went, the  _wetter_  everything became. The air stuck to her skin and felt heavy in her lungs. Her clothes hung in a vaguely damp manner off her body. Things squished and reeked in ways she had never known. Where in the world was Dutch taking them?

“You seem quiet,” Bill murmured, glancing over at her.

There was a hint of concern in his voice that she couldn't ignore, and it struck her that maybe there was some lingering tension from the night of the attack on the Braithwaites. He'd been considerate enough not to ask her directly what had happened, and she had appreciated it. However, she would have to tell him sooner or later.

“If you want to ask something, just ask me.”

He blushed slightly at having been called out so easily, but he shrugged it off. “Just been worried is all. What happened with the Braithwaites... seemed to take a lot outta ya.”

He was still dancing around the question, but it felt like he was protecting her from it. He wanted to know, but he didn't want to cause her the pain of telling him. It equal parts frustrated and warmed her, though she couldn't put a finger on her frustration. So, she let it out in a heavy sigh.

“It did. I was forced to remember things that I had carefully hidden away, and those memories did not resurface kindly.”

Bill nodded a bit, eyes on the road in front of them. “Been there.”

“I... imagine you have.” She had probably caused one or two of those events just by appearing in his life. “It's not a nice story. And... I'll tell it to you sometime. Just... not now.”

“Alright,” he conceded easily, no hint of disappointment in his voice. “I got a story or two you ain't heard neither, so...” He shrugged, glancing over at her. “I guess... well... guess we'll both just take our time. We got plenty of it.”

The frustration melted away as she filled with fondness. “I hope so,” she replied softly.

As the caravan rolled through the South, heading ever farther in the opposite direction of that they had hoped for, the mood felt... mixed. Some of the others seemed to have found hope to hold on to, but Star herself felt very apprehensive, so she picked up more on those who mirrored her sentiments. John, who had returned to guide them to Shady Belle, and Abigail were understandably worried, though they seemed to be avoiding each other. Micah was grumpier than usual, though he professed undying faith in Dutch's decisions. Hosea kept up his smile for the gang, but when he thought no one was looking, his gaze drifted to the countryside and became wistful. Things felt... different.

The twists and turns of the road carried the gang into swampland. New animal noises began to crop up that Star had never heard before in her life, and it put her on edge. This entire land was nothing but threat. She had already learned to dislike the South in general, but this part? It was repulsive.

It took the better part of the day to reach Shady Belle, and Star was appalled to find that the house was of a similar make to the Braithwaite mansion, though it had seen significantly better days. It was surrounded on three sides by swamp, and there were multiple battlements left from the previous occupiers.

While the wagons rolled in, Arthur emerged from the house with a wave. “Welcome home, all of ya, to my humble abode! We got fine livin', if you ignore the corpses and the alligators. A real paradise.”

Dutch jumped down from The Count, spinning with a grin. “I love it! Ms. Grimshaw, Mr. Pearson, would you kindly work your magic?”

The wagons fanned out across the yard to make space for each other as they organized the camp into something livable. Star squeezed Bill's shoulder before jumping down from the still moving wagon to see to the horses. As she made her way to the nervous animals, she saw Dutch and Arthur mounting back up.

“Dutch?” Molly called, running to catch up.

“Yes?”

“Could I have a word with ye?”

“Not now,” Dutch replied dismissively.

He and Arthur rode off, leaving a dejected Molly in her place. Star stood with her hand on Old Boy's neck, watching as the Irish woman's shoulders slumped and she turned to go back to the house. While it was true that Star had never been particularly fond of Miss O'Shea, she couldn't help but feel for the woman.

“He's just stressed, Molly,” she called.

Molly's red hair bounced as she turned, surprised at having been spoken to. Star expected her not to respond and move on, but she made her way awkwardly between the horses to stand with Star. “I dunno. He hardly speaks a word to me. Been this way for a while now.”

“Well... he's been stressed for a while now. After everything this gang has been through, can you blame him?”

“I just wish he'd talk to me. I... I really love 'im, and I wanna help 'im, but...” She shrugged helplessly. “How do you do it?”

That caught Star off guard. “Do what?”

“Get Bill to talk to ye. I seen you two 'round camp. Yer always talkin' and doin' stuff together. He's got a lot better since 'e met you. Nicer. Quieter.”

Star ran her fingernails through Old Boy's coat, considering the question. She didn't really think she'd  _done_  anything to get Bill to talk to her. Except maybe listen. He had a lot to say, but no one ever listened to him. Once she did, and he was convinced that she wasn't making fun of him, he just... talked.

“I don't know, Molly. We just... he trusts me, is all. Knows I'm not going to use his words against him, like everyone else seems to.”

The woman's freckled face twisted into an expression of despair. “Why doesn't Dutch trust me?! I've been by his side through all'a this. He should trust me!”

With that, Molly stormed off, crying. Star stared after the Irishwoman, baffled. She'd tried to help, but it wasn't her fault that Dutch found nothing to trust in his companion, though why he felt the need to keep her around was beyond understanding. They weren't even sharing a bed much anymore, so what was the point? Although, perhaps there was simply no convincing Molly that it was over. She still seemed to feel strongly about Dutch.

With a shrug, Star returned to her work, though she as soon joined by another.

“What was that about?” Hosea asked quietly, taking a brush to Silver Dollar.

Star glanced at the forming camp, making sure that Molly was nowhere in earshot. “Dutch brushed her off again. She wanted to know how I got Bill to talk to me. I told her that he trusted me. She... did not take it well.”

Hosea let out a sigh as a slight, humorless smile touched his lips. “So we saw.”

“Did I do something wrong?”

“Honesty is never wrong, girl. Except for when it gets you into trouble.” His smile grew genuine. “I knew when she arrived that the outlaw life would sit poorly with Molly O'Shea. It was just a matter of time.”

“Why does Dutch keep her around?”

“I don't think Dutch has spared a thought for Molly in months. She's here because she chooses to be. I don't wish the girl any ill will, but I do wish she'd move on. Dutch will never be the man she hopes him to be.”

Something about that troubled Star. If Hosea saw cracks in what Dutch was building...

“Don't mind me, Star,” he cut across her thoughts. “It's been a long road. Perhaps I'm a bit crankier than usual.”

Star smiled. “We're all tired. And this place... it's...”

“I know. Revolting. Though the stagnant water adds a pleasant aroma, wouldn't you say?”

They laughed together, finishing up with the horses. By that time, camp was more or less assembled. By nightfall, Dutch and Arthur had returned saying that they had found Angelo Bronte. Plans were laid for them and John to pay a visit the next day. Everything seemed to be on track to retrieve Jack and get the hell out of there.

The gang fell to their usual habits, eating dinner, drinking, playing the occasional game of poker. But underneath it all, there was an unrest, and they all could feel it.

Late into the night, Star and Bill sat on the ground outside of their tent. Star was sat between his legs, leaned back against his chest, and his chin rested on her shoulder. They were content in silence for a while until an alligator hiss made Star jump, knocking Bill's teeth together.

“Shit,” she breathed. “Sorry.”

“Ain't never seen you so jumpy,” he remarked, rubbing his jaw. “What's got you so wound up?”

“Everything,” she admitted, taking his hand to play with in her lap. “But especially this place. I don't like being this close to a city. I don't like the sounds those leviathans make. I don't like that I've been bitten by more bugs than I can count since we arrived. I want to go home.”

“Where's home?”

It was a genuine question, but Star realized that she didn't really know what to tell him. It wasn't the reservation that she spoke of, but that direction wasn't a bad one. North and West to the plains. To the buffalo. To the rocky buttes and clear skies. Home.

“Somewhere the wind actually moves and the air doesn't sit on you like wet fabric. Somewhere that horses can run without fear of breaking a leg in the mire.” She paused, then looked over her shoulder. “Somewhere with you.”

He smiled and gently placed his chin back onto her shoulder, arms wrapping around her torso to hold her close. “Sounds good to me.”

They sat together a while longer – long enough for Karen and Pearson to begin singing a little drunkenly from the poker table, accompanied by Javier on his guitar.

“ _I'm a poor lonesome cowboy/ Poor lonesome cowboy/ Poor lonesome cowboy/ A long way from home/ I ain't got no mother/ I ain't got no mother/ I ain't got no mother/ To mend the clothes I wear/ I'm a poor lonesome cowboy/ Poor lonesome cowboy/ Poor lonesome cowboy/ A long way from home.”_

As they sang, Bill began to hum the tune in Star's ear, gently rocking her side to side. She couldn't for a second maintain her worries when his voice sent pleasant shivers down her spine. A smile blossomed on her face as her arms went atop his. To say that she had ever thought to have something like this was a stretch. To say that she had imagined it would be someone like Bill Williamson is an outright lie.

….

In the morning, the camp was abuzz as Dutch, Arthur, and John rode off to Saint Denis to get Jack back. Abigail was a nervous wreck and spent most of her time pacing the camp. No one got in her way, though Sadie tried to offer some comfort.

Star spent the day with a constant watchful eye sweeping her surroundings. She had faith – or at the very least, had hope – that they would bring the boy back with no trouble, but enough had gone wrong up to that point to leave her restless. She also began to pace the camp, though slightly less fevered than Abigail.

At one point, Micah sidled across her path, lips twisted into a smirk. “What's got your britches in a knot?”

“Right now? You,” she replied, walking around him.

He chuckled, following her. “Ain't no reason to be hostile. Just makin' conversation.”

“Find someone else to talk to.”

“But I want to talk to you. I think we got off on the wrong foot.”

“Yes, I suppose nearly running me over, then proceeding to hurl offensive remarks might make things somewhat tense.”

“I thought you liked bein' called nasty names. Ain't that what Bill did to get your attention?”

Star spun around so fast that Micah nearly smacked into her. He took a staggering step backwards as her nose came very close to his. “Think you're funny, ugly man? Do you? Do you know the difference between you and Bill? He's capable of learning. He cares enough to try. There's a good man inside him that this gang tried so hard to repress because they needed someone to be the butt of their jokes. And he let them. Because he just wanted someone to want him back. You? You're rotten to the core. No amount of care or friendship would ever change you because you  _like_  being the way you are. You're a snake, Micah. Be careful someone doesn't turn you into boots.”

For a screaming, silent moment, Micah just stared at her. His face betrayed the tiniest hint of shock, though most of it hid in his biting blue eyes. And then, he laughed. “Oho, I seem to have struck a nerve. Alright, there, princess. Don't get yourself all worked up. I'll go my merry way.” His smile cracked, and his voice dropped. “But threaten me again, and we'll just see who does the skinning around here.”

He stepped back from her, his smirk back on his face, and then he sauntered off as if nothing had happened. Star made sure he was good and gone before letting out the breath she was holding. She knew it was unwise to rile him. He had always felt dangerous, and he had zero respect for her as a human being. Still, she refused to take his shit lying down.

As she turned to continue on, a voice called, “You alright?”

Charles was leaned up against a tree, easily blending into the bark and the foliage around him. Star nodded and crossed to him. “Fine.”

“He's mostly harmless, but... I don't like the idea of you facing him alone.”

Star's gaze went over her shoulder. “I don't believe for a second that he's harmless. Something about him has always set my teeth on edge. I don't know what it is... but, I don't trust him.”

Charles nodded. “Neither do I. Hunter's instinct maybe.”

“Maybe.” Her eyes returned to him. “What are you doing over here?”

He pointed at an alligator on the opposite shore. “Watching that.”

Star's lip curled up in displeasure. “Why?”

“It's fascinating.”

“It's horrific.”

The beast accentuated her point by snarling and hissing at some bird innocently passing by. She just pointed. Charles chuckled. “I didn't say it was kind.”

“Well, I hate it. I hate this place and all its animals.”

“Fair enough. Come on. Have you had lunch?”

The pair made their way back to the camp interior and tracked down some food. Bill was on watch duty, so the pair ate alone, swapping stories from their childhoods. Though the day had started out on shaky ground, it improved the longer they sat together. They only hoped it would last.

As the day dragged on, nerves around camp grew more frayed. The longer Dutch and the others were gone, the more worried everyone got. Had it been anything other than Jack, the stakes would not feel so high. He was just a boy, and everyone was fond of him. Except maybe Micah, who was annoyingly calm.

When darkness had fallen and they still hadn't returned, Abigail was nearly inconsolable. No one else could focus on much either. But, when the sounds of hooves reached them, every head popped up hopefully. Bill's voice called out, “Hey! They're back! I think I see Jack!”

“Abigail!!” Dutch called. “We got you your son!”

“We got him!” John practically whooped. “He's ok!”

Jack's little voice piped up, “Momma! I'm fine, Momma!”

The dam broke. Everyone came running, smiles all around.

“My son!” Abigail cried. “You got him! You got my son back!”

She whipped her little boy into her arms, spinning around with a laugh. Jack looked none the worse for wear and said, “They fed me good! Italian food. Have you ever had that?”

“Good luck living up to that, Pearson,” Star murmured to the cook. He just grinned and waved her off.

Abigail brought Jack to the crowd of people waiting to greet him, though he soon lost interest in it all and asked to play. Abigail let him, but never let her eyes leave him. Dutch, Hosea, Arthur, and John shared a quiet word together, but then Dutch broke away, speaking louder. “Boys, we got work to do. Interesting work. But first, let's have a drink. We got Jack back! It's time to celebrate!”

The gang let out cries of joy and almost immediately managed to become merry. Alcohol was opened and passed around. Songs were sung, the most rousing of which was Javier's “Cielito Lindo”. Star didn't know the words, so she simply stood with the gang, watching, smiling, and laughing.

The echoes of Sean's party came back to her, leaving a weight of sadness atop her joy, but it was not so heavy that she couldn't enjoy this new celebration. She laughed with the girls, drank with the boys, played with Jack. It was wonderful.

At one point, Bill approached her, bottle in hand, though he immediately offered it to her when he reached her. She took it and drank a large swig. He was obviously feeling the effects of the alcohol, but she had certainly seen him far worse off. He took her hand in his, letting it dangle between them. “R-remember the party at Horseshoe?” he asked, swinging her hand slightly.

“Course I do.”

“Well... me too, but... I don't... I don't remember the part I wanna remember. So, let's do it over.”

She smiled, grateful that the fire would hide her blush. “I mean... we've done so before...”

“But not like this,” he answered, waving around at everything. “It's a party! We got Jack back. Everything's gonna be alright. I just... I wanna spend it with you is all. Proper like this time.”

She took another drink, smiling around the bottle. “Alright, fine. I'll slip away, then you follow me in a bit.” Handing the bottle back, Star reclaimed her hand and slowly made her way to their tent, stopping to talk to a few people along the way.

One of those people was Kieran. He lingered on the outside of the festivities, though his demeanor was more relaxed than usual. He even smiled when she approached. “Hi, Star!”

“Hey!” The alcohol had loosened her tongue slightly, making her a bit louder than normal, so she jumped at her own voice. “Oh, geez. Sorry. That was noisy.” Kieran giggled and took another sip from his bottle. “Anyway, I came over here to tell you something. I don't want you to think it was your fault.”

“What do you mean?”

“Jack getting taken. You said you'd seen some men being suspicious and the like before he was kidnapped. It wasn't your fault. If you'd tried to stop them, they might've killed you, and that wouldn't have been better. We got him back ok. Everything worked out. So... it's not your fault.”

He swirled his drink around and shrugged. “I dunno 'bout all that, but... thanks, Star.”

“You don't need to know, 'cause I know,” she replied, poking him in the chest. “Now enjoy yourself, Kieran Duffy.”

“Yes, ma'am,” he replied, smiling.

With that, she found her way to her tent, dropping the flap closed behind her. She didn't imagine Bill would take long following her, so she rather quickly disposed of her clothes, then sat on her bedroll to brush through her hair. The humidity had caused it to become a frizzy, sticky mess, and she was fed up with it.

As predicted, Bill appeared only a few minutes later, hurrying himself into the tent and tying it shut. When he turned back around, he almost balked. Star looked up innocently. “What?”

“Didn't expect ya to... well...” He gestured at her naked form vaguely.

“You've seen it before.”

“I know that!” he replied, unbuttoning his shirt. “Just weren't expectin' it is all.”

A sly smile slid up her face, and she leaned back on her elbows, stretching out and exposing her body. “You mean to say that I still have an affect on you? Even just... innocently sitting here. Minding my own business?”

He gave her a disparaging glance that turned into a longing grimace. “Why are you like this?”

She chuckled. “Like what?”

“Like you enjoy tormentin' me!”

“Maybe I do.”

He yanked his usual plaid shirt off, then ripped off his undershirt as well. “I guess we'll just see about that.”

He joined her on the ground, crawling over top of her as she just ginned. “You're sober enough to remember this one, right?”

“Yes!”

“Alright! Just making sure. How did it start last time? Something like this?” She lifted up to claim his lips, running her fingers through his beard and into his hair. He practically melted.

“Somethin' like that,” he agreed softly when she pulled away.

She laid down, pulling him with her. The kisses he placed on her lips, soon moved to her neck, her collarbone, and her breasts. His beard tickled, causing her to squirm and giggle every once in a while which just made him smile against her skin.

To be fair, Star did not believe for a second that their drunken hook-up so many months ago had been anything like this. It had probably been a horrible, awkward, mess of a time and wasn't worth remembering anyway. So it was nice to be able to put a more pleasant memory in its place instead.

Bill's lips eventually reached her hips, and he paused to graze his teeth over her hip bone, eliciting a shiver. “Now who's tormentin' who?” he rumbled against her stomach, dragging his nose along the sensitive skin just below her belly button.

“I don't know that I'm tormented just yet,” she replied.

He looked up to catch her gaze and shake his head. “Incorrigible, you are.”

She shrugged. “Now, are you gonna talk all night, or are you...” His index finger slid between her legs, taking the words right out of her mouth. She cleared her throat and nodded. “Better.”

When his tongue replaced his finger, Star lost the ability to tease him in any way. He'd never done that before, and it was an entirely new sensation that sent radiating heat up her torso. She never wanted him to stop. So, when he pulled away to free himself from his boots and pants, she whined softly. He just smirked.

He was slow pushing into her the first time, causing her to throw her head back happily. More than anything, she enjoyed sex as a bonding activity, and prolonged contact of that sort felt far more personal. Every touch of their skin seemed to have an emotion behind it, despite their physical desire for one another.

After some time on the ground, they shifted around a bit. Bill sat on the bedroll, and Star straddled him, taking control of things. It all started out as fun and games, but the emotions seemed to come back into it ten-fold with them so close to one another. Their eyes seemed locked into one another, and the heat between them was like fire.

Outside, thunder began to rumble, but even that wasn't enough to break the two apart. Star's arms were around his shoulders, and one of her hands was buried in his messy hair. He had one hand on her lower back while the other helped hold him up. He alternated between squeezing her ass and her hip as she moved on him. The hand that wasn't in his hair slipped between her thighs to heighten her pleasure which made her whimper softly. Of course, at this point, she knew well that her noises were one of his favorite things, so it surprised her none when his grip on her tightened and he began to buck up into her some.

She leaned her forehead against his, eyes slipping shut and mouth falling slightly open as she focused on the feeling of him inside her. “I fucking love you,” she breathed. “God help me, but I do.”

He responded by practically throwing her back onto the ground and pounding into her until she was moaning with every thrust. Her back arched wildly when she came. He fucked her through her orgasm, and just as she began to shy away from the stimulation, he pulled free and came as well – spilling his seed on the ground and grunting a small laugh.

Star stared at the tent top for a moment to catch her breath, but soon rolled upwards to her knees to throw her arms around him again. He caught her, giggling. “Good enough for the memory books?” she asked, kissing his nose.

He got slightly bashful and murmured, “Any time you say you love me is good 'nough for that.”

She stared into his eyes for a moment, wanting so much for him to know just how much she meant it. There didn't seem to be a way to fully express the extent of the emotion in her chest, so she settled on a kiss. A long, careful, emotional kiss. “I do love you,” she whispered, leaning her head against his. “And don't you forget it. Not even when you're drunk out of your mind.”

He nuzzled her jaw gently. “Never.”


	15. Chapter 15

Days passed in the swamp as Dutch investigated potential leads for money in the nearby, abhorred city of Saint Denis. Apparently, Angelo Bronte had turned out to be in some way a friend to the gang instead of an enemy. Getting Jack back hadn't been nearly as difficult as they had anticipated. Things were looking up. Again. Why then did it feel so... off?

Things only got stranger one afternoon when Bill and Hosea approached Star with ever so slightly nervous expressions. She looked up from where she was sharpening her knife, taking in both of their looks before sitting back and crossing her arms over her chest. “What?”

“We've got a favor to ask,” Hosea began, voice chipper but unsure.

“Ok.”

“So, Dutch has accepted some invitations to a party in the city. At the Mayor's house, apparently. Mr. Bronte invited us.”

“Uh huh.”

“Dutch wants to bring along a woman who can get into circles that us men can't. To help us find some leads, see. We was wondering if you might join us.”

“Who's us?”

“Well, me and Bill here. And Dutch and Arthur.”

Star sat there, observing the way her lover wrung his hands slightly and didn't make eye contact. “Why not ask the others? Why me? I'm just going to stick out like a sore thumb. A Lakota in a fancy dress? That's just asking for trouble.”

“I told you she wouldn't want to do it,” Bill admonished.

Hosea turned to him and threw up his hands. “Well maybe if you told her the real reason instead of recruiting me to make things up she'd change her mind!” With that, he walked away, leaving Bill to clean up the fallout of what he'd said.

Star's eyebrow arched, and she simply waited for the truth to spill out. She didn't have to wait long.

“Dutch asked me to go along on this mission,” Bill explained. “Now, I-I-I dunno why. You know me. Ain't exactly the sort for polite society. Don't know a dining fork from a pitchfork. But I... I really wanna impress him, ya know? Show him I can be trusted with these sorts'a things. 'Course, I'd feel better if... well if you was there with me, and Dutch wanted us to bring a woman, so... but I knew you wouldn't want to. Figured you'd find a reason you shouldn't go. So I asked Hosea to ask you. Thought maybe comin' from him it would mean somethin'.”

Star's expression softened considerably as the explanation went on. It was all very Bill, and it broke her heart a little to know how insecure he was about it all – even coming to her and asking for help. “Why didn't you just tell me that?”

He rubbed the back of his neck, staring at his shoes. “Didn't want you to think I was bein' stupid. I dunno.” He shrugged, defeated.

The woman sighed, putting her knife back in her boot before standing and joining him. “Bill, darling, every reason you gave for wanting me along is valid. And I understand why you want to go. I'm just sorry that you felt you had to hide it from me.”

He shook his head. “It ain't nothin' you done. I... I just ain't used to askin' for help. Besides... I wanna be the one protectin' you. Not the other way around.”

Star smiled, taking his hand. “I'm sure there will come a time for that. In the meantime, let me help you. Tell Dutch I'll go. It might be a fiasco, but I'll go.”

“You will?”

“For you? Sure.” She held up a hand. “But, you don't have to tell Dutch that.”

Bill smiled, hooking an arm around her shoulders to pull her in for a kiss to the top of her head. “Thanks. I'll let him know.”

“Guess I better find a dress.”

He chuckled into her hair. “That'll be a sight.”

“Oh yeah? And what about you in a suit?”

His face went slack and slightly white. “Well I... I didn't think'a that.”

Star laughed softly. “Guess you better start thinking about it. See what the others plan to do. Maybe there's a shopping trip in the works.”

“Right. I'll look into it. See you later?”

“Of course.”

They part ways and went about the business of the camp. Dutch found Star later in the day and confirmed with her what Bill had told him. He seemed surprised that she was willing to go, naming some of the same concerns she had mentioned, but it was easy enough to lie to him, though perhaps they were simply misdirections. “I want to see this city at least once before we leave. It's probably the only chance I'm going to get to attend something like this. Just want to help out the gang.”

A shopping trip was, in fact, planned for the evening of the event, and the party-goers rode off together to attend to it. Star, for her part, was a bundle of nerves. She didn't want to see the faces of the city folk when she walked into the tailor's looking for a fancy dress. Too often she'd watched noses curl up in barely hidden disgust just because she existed, and that had been in towns like Valentine with no delusions of being high-brow. But, this was for Bill's sake, not her own, and that made it easier.

When Saint Denis appeared on the horizon, Dutch rode even with Star and asked, “Well? What do you think of this peak of civilization?”

The cluster of ugly buildings belched out black clouds of smoke. The waters around it were filled with boats, coming and going. The smell that it added to the already pungent marshland scent was... overwhelming.

“This is a city? It seems more like an architectural pustule.”

Dutch chuckled deeply. “My thoughts exactly. There's still time to turn back.”

“That would not be very brave of me.”

“Between you and me, I might not be feelin' so brave myself.”

They shared a smile, then fell quiet for the rest of the ride.

Hosea led the way to the tailor. Star was tempted to look around at all the people and the buildings, but there were so many people and buildings that riding distracted in any way might prove perilous. Instead, she kept her eyes on Hosea and tried to follow his movements precisely. Rhiannon tossed her head nervously, especially when a clanging vehicle of some sort went by on tracks in the road.

Bill positioned himself and Brown Jack to be between Star, Rhiannon, and the tracks to shield them from any other passing trolleys, casting a concerned glance their direction, but saying nothing. Star felt better having him there.

When the group finally arrived at their destination, Star dismounted and moved quickly to Bill's side. She could already feel the looks – the gazes that screamed  _you don't belong here_. Still, one thing that she hadn't anticipated was the variations of color the city would hold. Though she had yet to see anyone that looked like her, there were many who looked like Lenny and Tilly and Javier. Knowing that was a small comfort.

Dutch led the way into the store, announcing their presence with his charming, booming voice, and in moments, they were all being ushered away to be fitted for something appropriate. Star was loathe to be parted from the men, but decency demanded it, so she followed behind the assistant girl obediently. The girl was kind enough, asking what event they were going to, then proceeding to swoon about it. As she showed Star into a small room, she smiled and said the tailor would be with her shortly.

Star sat on a chair in the middle of the room, trying not to allow her anxieties to get the better of her. These were the sorts of things women did all the time. The tailor would not think it odd, so neither should she.

It took perhaps ten minutes for the tailor to join her, and the man was immediately pleasant. He asked what sort of styles she liked, and when she stared at him in stunned silence, he just laughed and said they would try them all. So they did.

It took time, but eventually the tailor made Star believe that she looked nice in a deep green evening gown. The chest was cut in a square shape, exposing a great deal of her skin, but the frilly shoulders kept the dress secure. The fabric pinched close at the waist before flaring out in the skirt that dragged the ground slightly. There were sewn embellishments on the skirt in a flowing pattern, adding a bit of elegance to an otherwise fairly simple dress.

“There now,” the tailor murmured as she emerged from behind the dressing wall. “Don't we look lovely?”

Star looked at herself in the mirror, unable to reconcile her understanding of herself with the image before her. While it wasn't a look she intended to maintain, she was not unhappy with it. “Thank you, sir,” she said quietly, swirling the skirt around her legs a bit. “I believe this will suit me fine.”

She took a moment to braid her hair, then followed the tailor back out to the main room. The men had already finished, and they stood in a small group looking far more dapper than she'd ever thought to see them. Something about the absurdity of it all caused a giddiness to bubble in her chest, and she laughed to herself.

The laugh drew the attention of the men, and they all gaped, but none quite so much as Bill. Star shuffled forward, still unaccustomed to the length of the gown and the shoes that went with it. “Well?” she asked.

Dutch took her gloved hand and brought it to his lips in a sweeping gesture. “I have never seen somethin' so lovely in all my life,” he answered.

Hosea laughed and shooed him away. “You'll make the girl blush, Dutch.”

“Oh, but I am tryin',” he chuckled.

“Ya look real pretty, Star,” Arthur said with a kind smile. “Like a real lady.”

“Oh, I wouldn't go that far,” Star laughed softly. “But something sort of close, maybe.”

After paying for the wares, Dutch, Arthur, and Hosea made their way outside to wait for the coach that Dutch had  _'hired'_  – conveniently driven by Lenny. The details of that particular heist had not been explained to Star, but she found it highly amusing regardless.

Bill stayed where he was, staring. It was his attentions that made Star blush, brown eyes falling to her feet. “So?” she asked.

“You... yer gorgeous,” he breathed.

Her eyes came back to him, sparkling from the compliment. He'd slicked his hair back, and the suit he'd donned fit him just right. One could look at the pair and believe for a second that they'd been rich their whole lives.

“You look so good!” she cried, smiling. “Who'd have thought that a little hair pomade and some fancy fabric would turn you into a gentleman?”

He rolled his eyes, but she saw the smile dancing around on his lips as he turned toward the door. “Come on, you.”

They joined the others outside, and it wasn't long before Lenny pulled up on a carriage, dressed to the hilt as well. He winked at them and called, “Did you order a coach, sirs?”

“We surely did!” Dutch replied, opening the door for his friends. “We are going to a party at the mayor's house.”

“I took the liberty of stocking your cabin with some celebratory alcohol. I hope you don't mind.”

Dutch laughed. “My boy, you are ever so resourceful.”

They all climbed in, and Star sat herself between Bill and Hosea, accepting the glass of champagne that Dutch held out to her. The boys were quicker about their consumption and soon got to laughing uncontrollably about some story or another. Star was mostly laughing at them under the guise of laughing with them, but the mood in the coach was just so undeniably jovial.

“I ain't never been to a ball,” Arthur laughed.

“Truth be told, neither have I,” Dutch replied.

Hosea waved them off. “I've been to quite a few in my time.” He winked. “Fine pickings.”

“Oh, no, no, no, no. No pickpocketing! We are here to make real contacts.”

“What kind of contacts?” Arthur asked.

“Well, I dunno. We'll find what we can. All I know for sure is we are goin' to a party at the mayor's house, and the guest of honor is the worst crook in town! I am sure that we will find something.”

This led to another round of guffaws that Star waited out before speaking up. “Boys, we need to decide what my story is.” Confused eyes fell on her, and she went on, “This isn't a party with the gang. This is high society, and I... I don't fit the mold.”

“And you think we do?” Arthur replied.

She smiled and shook her head. “That's not what I mean. Arthur, I'm Lakota. You boys are not. You might be a little rough around the edges, but me? They're going to look at me and see nothing but a savage in a dress.”

And just like that, she landed on an idea.

“Which is... exactly what we're going to let them see.”

Dutch, canted his head slightly. “I don't follow.”

“During many of the military actions against my people, women were taken against their will to be the wives of soldiers. Or, more accurately, slaves. A tamed jewel on their arm as a mark of their victories. I'm sure Saint Denis has its share of such men. Bill was army. Let me play his spoil of war. It will be cause for less questions, and we could use a few less questions while we're scoping the place for robbery leads.”

“She makes a good point,” Hosea agreed.

Dutch nodded thoughtfully. “You sure you can handle bein' a slave for a night?”

The question was a tease, but there was an underlying truth to it. “For a night, sure.”

“Fine. Then that's what we'll do. You keep at Bill's side and see what you can find out. If you're nothin' more than a jewel, well... what harm could you be?” A slightly sinister smile spread over his face. “Ears and eyes open, madam.”

“Yes, sir,” she replied with a nod.

The carriage pulled up in front of the mayor's house, and they all loaded out. Dutch, Hosea, and Arthur went out the side facing the house while Bill and Star went out the opposite door. Once the pair were standing with the coach between them and everything else, Bill caught her elbow and pulled her close to murmur, “I... I don't wanna treat you like a slave.”

“It's just an act,” she replied, pulling up her elbow-length gloves. “Unless you plan on answering to every horse's ass in there who wants to know why you're an Indian lover.”

“Well...”

“You're not, alright? As long as we are here, I am nothing more than an object. You won me. You killed my family and took me from my home to show off to the world. And you have to treat me that way.”

The man seemed confused and slightly hurt by it all, but he just nodded, offering the crook of his elbow for her to put her arm through. She did so, took a deep breath, and then allowed her shoulders to sag ever so slightly. Her eyes fell to the ground, and she tried to convince herself that the man at her side had broken her will. It was not easy.

They walked around the carriage to join the others. The doorman confiscated their weapons, accepted their invitations, then led them through the house. Dutch and Arthur were ushered up the stairs to meet with Bronte while Hosea, Bill, and Star were led out to the back porch to await their friends.

Though she avoided eye contact with everyone, Star allowed her gaze to sweep over the house and the party. Everything was glittering and dancing in the soft warmth of evening. Had the company been different, it might have been a pleasant party. Though, what did she know of such things?

Men and women mingled in small groups on the lawn, talking of stock prices and industry. It was like a foreign tongue, and Star was not sure what to make of it. Where there was industry, there was money, but how did one steal stock?

Before too long, Dutch and Arthur reappeared. There was a tension radiating from Dutch that couldn't be placed, but it made Star slightly uneasy. Whatever had been said with Bronte had riled him.

“Ok,” he murmured. “Arthur, go find the mayor, if you can. Stay outta trouble, and steal nothin' unless it's information.”

“Got it.”

Arthur jogged down the stairs and joined the party as Dutch turned to the rest. “Hosea, you go find us some place to rob.”

“On it.”

“Bill, Bronte pointed out some military men off that'a way. Go see if you can warm up to 'em. Make us some new friends if you can.”

“I... right. Ok.”

“Star...” He paused and gave her a tiny smile. “Keep your mouth shut and your head down. See what you can overhear.”

She nodded, avoiding his gaze and stepping closer to Bill. Dutch chuckled. “Atta girl. I'm gonna find out if Cornwall and what's-his-name, Milton, know we're here.”

They split up. Bill meandered in the direction Dutch had indicated, though his steps were hesitant. Star mentally begged him to find some confidence, even if it was contrived. “Just pretend you're the biggest honcho in the army,” she whispered. “Use enough truth that it sounds believable, but embellish a little bit.”

“I don't know what that means,” he hissed back.

It was too late to worry about it as they had come up on the officers and their wives. Bill cleared his throat awkwardly and greeted, “Good evenin', gentlemen! Ladies.”

They turned, appraising the pair down their noses. “And who might you be?” one of the men asked.

“Well, I'm... Sergeant Bill Martin. 7th Cavalry, D Troop.”

“Ah!” the man cried, smiling. “A Garryowen! Come, join us!” Bill and Star joined the circle as the man went on, “Knew a few fellas in the 7th. All of 'em were fine, upstandin' men. How long you serve, Sergeant?”

“Near about seven years. Yourself?”

“Oh, I'm a career man. Never have left!” He laughed.

The conversation wandered off into military logistics and talk of commanders and other things that Star knew nothing about. Bill seemed to keep up with it, so she chose to listen to the conversations happening around them instead. At least until her presence was brought into the spotlight.

“I don't believe you've introduced your companion, sir,” one of the wives practically sneered.

“Oh, her? This is... well I don't quite remember what her name was before I found her. She-she answers to Abigail now. Proper, Christian name.

“Nice to meet you,  _Abigail_ ,” the woman replied.

Star bowed her head slightly and mumbled a greeting, only to be nudged  _hard_  by Bill who pressed, “Speak so everyone can hear ya.”

“Nice to meet you, ma'am,” Star repeated, louder.

That seemed to satisfy the crowd, and she was allowed to slip into obscurity once more, though they went on talking about her as if she wasn't there.

“Where'd you find that one, Sergeant?” one of the men asked. “I'd heard of men taking prairie trophies, but I'd not yet seen one in the flesh.”

Bill glanced at her, then answered, “Caught her fleein' from Wounded Knee.”

Star's insides twisted up, but she couldn't fault him. Enough truth to make it believable.

“Ran her down, trussed her up, took her home. I like to-to-to bring her out for parties like this. Reminds us all what we're fightin' for out there. Taming the wilds, as it were.”

“Well, I sure never thought to see one in an evening gown.”

“Right,” Bill laughed. “You, go get me a drink.”

He shoved Star off slightly, and she hurried to do as told, silently thanking him for finding an excuse to free her from the verbal assault. Though it was mostly as she had expected, it still stung and riled her all the same. Bill had fallen into his role well which only made it worse. She didn't believe he meant of word of it, but it was just a little too close to the man he had been when they met. For a second she could almost imagine that he'd never changed at all, and it was a terrifying thing to think of.

She stood at the drink table, pouring a glass of punch and taking a moment for herself. Much to her surprise, she was joined by a man she recognized – one she had never thought to see again.

“Eagle Flies?” she asked, leaning to catch his gaze.

He looked like he was going to be hostile for a moment, but when he registered her identity, shock replaced every other emotion. “Wicapiwakan? What...? How have you come to be here?”

“It's a... very long story. And you?”

“My father is here petitioning the mayor on behalf of our tribe. They seek to move us again.”

“Again? Have the Wapiti not suffered enough?”

“A sentiment we share, though I do not see what talking will gain us. This will lead to war.”

Though that revelation troubled her, it made her smile slightly as well. “That sounds like the man who massacred a camp full of army men for the deaths of a few Lakota. Without which I would not be here.”

“Yes. What became of you after we freed you that night?”

“I fell in with a gang of outlaws and have been living with them. It's been a trying road, though not without its benefits.”

He smirked, his eyes slipping up and down her figure. “I take it these outlaws bought you your fine dress?”

She rolled her eyes. “We are here on business and had to look the part.”

“No matter what you and I wear... we will never look the part, my friend.”

It was true. Horrid, but true. And evidence of that truth was marching through the crowd in their direction.

Star saw Bill coming only a few seconds before he arrived. She quickly looked over at her friend and hissed, “Whatever is about to happen, I must ask that you play along.”

“I don't understand.”

“Please. Just do as I say.”

Bill lumbered up, his entire body language suggesting rage, but his voice suggesting panic. “They saw ya over here talkin' to this fella and they sent me to deal with ya. What do I do?”

Eagle Flies stared in confusion while Star's eyes went over Bill's shoulder to the group he'd left. They were all waiting expectantly for her to be put back into her place. “Well, we've already been speaking too long. They'll assume I'm talking back.”

“What is this game you're playing?” Eagle Flies murmured, casting a suspicious glance at Bill. “Do you need help?”

“No, my friend. We are pretending to be something we are not in the hopes of gaining information. Please believe that, as what is about to happen is not going to be pleasant. Bill, hit me.”

“Wh... what?” Bill stammered. “Why?”

“You've well established yourself as a violent man to them, and they're expecting a show. I've already spent too long defying you. Hit me.”

“No. I'm not gonna...”

“I swear to god, Bill, if you do not hit me everything is going to fall apart. Do you want Dutch to be disappointed again?”

“N-no. But I can't...”

“You can. Eagle Flies, where are you and your father staying? I will seek you out again.”

“We have a meeting with a city counselor in two days on High Street. Meet us there. Perhaps you can talk some sense into my father.”

“I will. Now, Bill, god damn it.”

It seemed to take every single ounce of will in Bill's body to do it, but he backhanded Star clean across the face. It was a good hit. The sound of skin against skin caused the surrounding crowd to gasp and murmur, but when they saw the situation, most were content to ignore it. Eagle Flies recoiled, staring in shock and confusion, but then he slipped away into the crowd.

Bill grabbed Star's elbow and dragged her back to the military men and their wives. “Forgive me, gentlemen,” he said when they arrived. “Seems she still thinks she can talk to me like she ain't the dirt on my boots.”

“No apologies necessary, Sergeant. You've done the right thing.”

They talked a little while longer, and Star stood, staring at her feet as blood trickled down her chin from her busted lip. The act was beginning to be too much, and she hadn't even found anything of use for Dutch. Though, running into Eagle Flies presented another concern entirely. It had been a long time since she had worried about anything outside of the gang, but now...

When the fireworks started, the crowd immediately became enamored, turning to face the sparkling expanse of sky. In that moment of distraction, Bill took Star's elbow and pulled her away, through some bushes to a secluded section of garden.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“I can't do it no more,” he answered. “I ain't gonna stand there and listen to them talk about ya like that.” He reached up to brush away the tendril of blood from her mouth. “I... I fuckin' hit ya. Yer bleedin'. And for what?”

“To be fair, I didn't give you much choice.”

“I ain't doin' it. We're gonna go back to the house and wait for the others. I don't care what Dutch says.”

It was almost as if he'd hit her again. “You don't?”

“No. Arthur and Hosea'll find somethin'. Ain't no reason for you to suffer like this for a score. Or me, for that matter.”

She looked up, amused. “You?”

“What, you think I like hittin' you? You think I like pretending that you ain't the most valuable thing I ever had? Well, I don't. All these... these high society, high'n'mighty pigeon shits can fuck off and die.”

Star grabbed his suit jacket and pulled him in for a kiss, despite the pain it caused her lip. “Remind me never to doubt your acting abilities again.”

He snorted. “Yeah. Sign me up for the next stage production of Bullshit and the Company it Keeps.”

She broke into laughter. “Come on, then. Let's go.”

The pair made their way back to the house using as hidden a path as they could manage. Dutch was standing on the back porch, so instead of finding anywhere to linger, they joined him. “Find anything?” he asked.

“No,” Star replied, eyes sweeping the party once more. “Lots of idle gossip. Some interesting racism. That's about it.”

Dutch eyes fell on her lip and then passed between the two of them. “What happened?”

“Just playing our parts.”

Arthur emerged from the house behind them, patting his chest pocket which made Dutch chuckle. Hosea came jogging up the stairs with a grin. “Gentlemen and lady, I believe we are done here,” he said.

“You got somethin'?”

“Oh, just a bit of somethin'.”

It made Star feel better knowing that it had not all been in vain. Even Bill seemed to have relaxed slightly.

“Good work. All of ya,” Dutch said as he led the way out. “What'd you find out, Hosea?”

“Well, there's plenty of money moves through here, of course, and I think I found out how we can grab some of it. A big bank. A real one. But not yet.”

“A city bank?”

“Maybe. And a stuffed one. If we're gonna leave, that could be the one thing we need.”

“There's also that trolley car station that Signor Bronte told us about, and I heard somethin' about a high stakes poker game.”

They emerged out the front door and made their way to collect their weapons. As they did so, Lenny pulled up with the carriage. “Alright, let's go home,” Dutch sighed, climbing in.

They all piled in, significantly more weary and quiet than when they had arrived. When she was finally sitting down, Star heaved a relieved sigh and leaned over against Bill. He put an arm around her, holding her close to him. To her surprise, he was the first to speak once they were underway.

“I ain't ever felt so awkward in all my life,” he said. “All those folk so pleased with themselves. Everybody thinkin' they're better'n everybody else. If you ask me, it's more like torture!”

Dutch nodded. “Well, that's sort of the point, isn't it: let the people torture themselves.”

“Here's them papers I took,” Arthur said, pulling them from his jacket pocket and handing them to Dutch.

“Anybody see you take this?”

“I don't think so.”

“Hm. I might have an idea. Let me think on it.”

The rest of the ride back to Shady Belle was silent.


	16. Chapter 16

When the carriage arrived back at the house, the sun was just beginning to rise. They all clambered out, murmuring good nights to one another and going their separate ways. Lenny climbed down from the driver's seat promising to take the coach to the wagon fence up at Emerald Ranch later in the day. They were exhausted.

Bill and Star made their way to their tent, barely bothering to wriggle out of their fancy clothes before collapsing in a heap. Sleep was on them in no time, though dreams pushed at the edges of Star's mind. The night had not been an easy one, and her psyche saw fit to continue that trend.

When she finally woke up, some time after noon, she was in a poor mood, though Bill's presence was a comfort. It took a while for him to wake up as well, but when he did, he simply rolled over and gathered her into his arms, closing his eyes again. She laughed softly and nestled in against him. “We should probably get up,” she whispered.

“Don't want to,” he replied simply. “We deserve a day, after all that mess.”

“Hm. Maybe so.”

The entire side of her face ached from his strike, but she didn't want to tell him that. He already felt bad enough, evidenced by the soft, lingering kisses he was leaving on her bruised skin. She felt bad for having asked it of him, but it had kept their cover from being blown, and Dutch seemed pleased.

“Can't believe you ever put up with me sayin' shit like that,” he sighed.

Star shrugged. “You seemed to mean it less. That's what got me curious. It felt like a ruse of some kind – like you were trying to drive me away.”

He chuckled. “Which clearly didn't work.”

“Clearly not.” She smiled, opening her eyes to find him watching her. “So... you don't hate the Indians anymore?”

“I... no. I-I-I still got nightmares, but... but that's war. Bet all them that fought in the Civil War got 'em too, and I don't see them hatin' white folk for it. And you. You don't hate all white folk for what they done to your people. Which is... somethin' else.”

Something uncomfortable constricted in Star's chest, and she sat up, looking between the tent flaps outside. Bill watched her for a moment, then sat up with her, keeping a slight distance. “You ain't never told me... 'bout Wounded Knee.”

“No... I supposed I haven't.” She took a deep breath. “What do you want to know?”

“Well... how'd you come to be there? What-what happened? From your point of view, I mean.”

Star felt like she might puke, but she swallowed down the sensation and began to speak. “I was sixteen years old. My father and I had been traveling alone for some time, avoiding the army, but when he heard of Sitting Bull's murder he was worried and enraged. He wanted to travel to the Hunkpapa village, so we did, but it was mostly empty when we arrived. We did some asking around and found out that those in Sitting Bull's village had gone to join Spotted Elk in the Cheyenne River reservation, but word was that they had chosen to move as well – to Pine Ridge. With Sitting Bull dead, many were seeking refuge with Red Cloud there.”

As she spoke, Star drew shapes in the dirt in front of her, staring emptily. “We met up with them a couple days before camping at Wounded Knee Creek. Many in the camp were followers of the Ghost Dance religion and performed the dance regularly.”

“I never did understand what that was about,” Bill admitted. “People kept sayin' it was sign of an uprising.”

“It wasn't. Those who performed the dance believed that doing so would bring back those who had died and would eventually lead to the disappearance of the white man, but it was important that they did not fight to bring this about. It was just a dance. My father began to dance with them. I suppose, in such dark times, he had begun to miss my mother and wanted her to come back to him.”

The memory of the drums were ever present in Star's mind, and she could feel them pushing against the inside of her skin. “I never danced. I thought it was foolish. The man who came up with it, Wovoka, said that the Christian God had come to him in a vision, and I had no interest in anything the Christian God had to say. Not after how his followers had treated me and my people.”

“Ain't much of a fan of him neither.”

Star gave a small smile over her shoulder before going on. “The morning it happened, I was going about my daily chores. I saw the soldiers coming down from the hill, but they did not seem to be angry, so I thought nothing of it, though when I realized they were disarming us, I began to worry. I started to search for my father. Some were performing the dance, so I thought he might be with them. When the first shot went off, I froze and things just went mad.”

Her brown eyes welled with tears that slid down her cheeks. “Everyone began screaming and yelling. Bullets flew past me, striking men, women, and children alike. I saw a mother with a babe at her breast get shot through the back, killing them both. I saw Spotted Elk fall. He was just an old man. Old, and sick. But he was shot down as though he were a brave with a weapon in hand.” Star's lip quivered slightly, putting a waver into her voice.

“My father found me in the madness and put me onto a horse. He said I must get away. 'Nakípȟa!' Flee, he told me. I did not want to run. I wanted to fight. He smacked my horse's rump, and it bolted. I looked back to call for my father, and I saw him stagger as a red stain spread on his shirt. He fell into the snow, and my horse carried me over the plains whether I wanted to go or not.”

Star had spared him some of the details of watching the insides of men become their outsides; of the screams of children as they were butchered. He had seen it all himself.

“I don't know who shot first. But I do know that the army descended upon hundreds of unarmed people with weapons we could not hope to match and slaughtered us long past the point of quelling resistance. 300 Sioux died that day. Only 31 soldiers. And then the government gave some of the soldiers medals. Awards for murdering my people better than their brethren.” She looked back over her shoulder once more, “Better than you.”

Bill took in the sight of her tears, then looked away. “I ain't... there's no excuse for what was done that day. No explanation. It weren't even a proper fight, like you said. And I... I'm sorry.” When he looked back to her, his own eyes had grown watery, causing emotion to catch in her throat. “There ain't nothin' I can say to make it better, I know that, but... I will  _never_  let anyone treat you that way again. Like you ain't even human. I deserved everything you ever did to me and worse for-for-for the things I said. I was so caught up in my own sufferin' that I couldn't see what your people was goin' through, but that's... that's all different now.”

He reached for her, and she climbed onto his lap, her legs on either side of his torso. He brushed over the mark he'd left the night before with his thumb. “I won't hurt you no more. Not for no one. Not for the army or the government. Not even Dutch.”

“That's a hard promise to keep, Bill,” she murmured, leaning into his hand. “Lovers inevitably hurt each other at some point.”

“Well... yeah, but... I won't mean to.”

She smiled. “I'll take it.”

They spent the rest of the day in their tent, not even bothering to emerge for food. No one came to intrude on them, which was surprising, but perhaps telling of Dutch's knowledge of what they'd gone through at the party. It was a needed day of respite.

Mostly the pair talked through the absurdities of the night before, laughing at how pompous the people were. A few impressions were done which sent them both into raucous giggles. Eventually, however, the conversation turned to the future of the gang.

“So, what do you think about all this?” Star asked, gesturing vaguely.

Bill shrugged. “I dunno. Seems like, if we can just get enough money from the stuff we found at the party that maybe we can clear outta here.”

“To where?”

“Well... Dutch been sayin' Tahiti, but... I don't really know where that is. Island somewhere from what I can gather.”

Star frowned. “And you... want to go to this island?”

He shrugged again. “Ain't never been to an island. Besides, you know me. I'll follow Dutch anywhere. Wouldn't you?”

Her initial instinct was to agree with him, but there was a discomfort nagging at the back of her mind. She believed in Dutch and in his dreams for the future, but she was wary of complete committal to anyone. Even Bill, if she was brutally honest. “As long as his path is aligned with my own, then yes.”

“What... what does that mean?”

Star sighed. “It means that I will never let someone else decide my course of action for me. I'm not saying he will, but if Dutch ever takes a turn down a road I will not travel, then... he and I will have to part ways.”

This revelation seemed to surprise and distress Bill who opened and shut his mouth several times in an effort to respond. “But I thought you said... back at Clemens Point...”

“I said that as long as Dutch is with us, I'm with him. He has created a family for which he is trying to provide a better future. The family is the priority, at least for me. My goal is to see this gang safe and happy and living well. If that means we go to Tahiti, then we go to Tahiti. I'm just saying... I care about these people. I want what's best for them.”

“So does Dutch.”

“I know. That's why I'm still here.” She took a deep breath, leveling a serious look at the man across from her. “We all must choose our own journey in this life. Having our paths dictated to us by another robs us of our simplest right: to live our lives free. Dutch knows this. He fights for freedom and choice, and I respect and love him for it. While he may be my leader, he did not choose this path for me. It was one I was already traveling before I fell in behind him.”

Bill's brow was creased in confusion, but after some quiet time to think, he seemed to make his peace with her words. His face relaxed, and he nodded slightly. “I... I guess I just ain't used to pickin' a path of my own. Last time I did that, I ended up in the army. Well and truly lost.”

Star smiled. “I am glad that Dutch was there to help you find your way again. Perhaps now that you have gained some confidence you will feel comfortable stepping out of his shadow. In all things, Bill, you must be true to yourself and nothing else. If  _you_  believe it is right, then you must do it. If you believe it is wrong, do not do it.”

He dropped his gaze and smiled softly. “Simple enough.”

….

The next day, Star rode into Saint Denis alone to meet up with Eagle Flies and his father. It was not hard to spot them on High Street, waiting outside of an official looking building, but she was surprised to see a white man waiting with them.

She tied Rhiannon to a hitching post, then jogged across the street. “My friend!” she greeted, waving.

Eagle Flies met her and gripped her arm. “Wicapiwakan, welcome.”

“Call me Star. It is more palatable to the sensitive white ear.” They shared a conspiratorial grin, then shifted to the others.

“Who is this?” the white man asked, smiling.

“This is Star. She and I met when...” Eagle Flies' eyes slipped to his father briefly. “Well, she was in trouble, and I helped her. We saw each other again the other night, and I asked her to come here. Perhaps she can help.”

“From which tribe do you hail, madam?”

“Oglála Lakota,” she answered, holding out a hand for him to shake.

He took it and shook heartily. “Ah! Kin of Crazy Horse and Red Cloud, then?”

She shared an amused look with Eagle Flies before politely responding, “Kind of.”

“Excellent. Oh, but forgive me, I have yet to introduce myself. I am Evelyn Miller.”

“The author?” Hearing the name that so often passed Dutch's lips was a shock.

“Something like that,” he laughed, releasing her hand. “Now, what has Eagle Flies told you of our goals here?”

“Not much. Only that you were seeking the aid of politicians to allow the Wapiti to keep their land. Knowing too well the consequences of being moved forcibly, I would like to help however I can.”

At that moment, Eagle Flies' father stepped up. “You say you will help however you can, though if you are a friend of my son's I must believe that perhaps you are of like mind with him. We do not come here to make war, and if that is your aim, I must ask that you do not help us.”

“Father,” Eagle Flies grumbled, rolling his eyes.

Star shook her head. “No, it is a legitimate concern. I will answer you honestly, sir. I do not have much trust in the white man's government. If they are moving you again, it is for their gain and no other reason which leads me to believe that they will stop at nothing to see it through. However, if this can be stopped without bloodshed, then it should be. If not... well... we'll deal with that if it comes up.”

The older man eyed her with weary amusement, though great wisdom was behind his gaze. “In that case, allow me to introduce myself. I am Rains Fall, chief of the Wapiti.”

“I'm pleased to meet you, sir,” she replied, dipping her head.

“Wonderful,” Miller said, smiling. “Now that we are all acquainted, perhaps we can fill you in on the details of... Oh! Hello! Sir!”

Star spun to see who it was the author was greeting, and she was shocked to find Arthur Morgan approaching them. He seemed equally as baffled to see her standing there, and she very abruptly wasn't sure if she was supposed to pretend she didn't know him or not.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Miller,” Arthur replied.

“Forgive me, I don't believe I ever caught your name at that ghastly party.”

“Arthur Morgan. At least, sometimes.”

“May I say somethin' rude, Mr. Morgan?”

Arthur grinned slightly. “Sure.”

“The mayor thinks you robbed him. Though, to be clear, he wasn't very upset about it. He rather liked you.”

“Ok...”

“Your arrival here is most timely, sir. Most timely. Do you... well, I mean to say... can you... steal things?”

“Is there a reason you're askin' me to incriminate myself, Mr. Miller?” Arthur replied, ever so slightly unconvincing in his affront, though perhaps it was only Star who thought so.

“Have you met?” Miller asked, shifting his attention to the three natives. “This is Rains Fall, a great chief, his son, Eagle Flies, and a friend of theirs, Star.”

Arthur nodded, eyes lingering slightly too long on Star, though they seemed to have decided to feign ignorance of one another. Rains Fall said, “We saw your wagon train crossing the river at Cumberland Falls some months ago, and at the party you were upstairs.”

Through his surprise, Arthur replied, “Well, you have great powers of observation.”

“Yes, my people, if we are even a people anymore, we've fought hard. We've made peace treaties. And those treaties were broken, and we've been moved and punished, and punished and moved.”

“I'm sure.”

“And now I am told we are to be moved again.”

“Clearly contravening the peace treaty signed three years ago,” Miller added.

Ever surly, Eagle Flies muttered, “This will lead to war.”

Rains Fall put a hand on his shoulder and shook his head. “No, my son. It will not. It cannot. We cannot fight another war. They have got stronger, and we have become far weaker, Mr. Morgan.”

“It's a bad business,” the outlaw murmured, blue eyes flicking to Star.

Miller took a deep breath and said, “It's to do with oil. I know it is, but I need proof. I believe there were some prospectors who were on their land a few months ago who have filed reports with Leviticus Cornwall and the state government claiming huge reserves of oil under their land.”

Arthur nodded knowingly. “So, you want me to try to steal it.”

“Well, obviously  _they_  can't. Even more obviously, I would be useless. Listen, I realize this is a ridiculous request, but we are very desperate.”

“I'm not a do-gooder, Mr. Miller,” came the response. “Gentlemen, ma'am, I'm very sorry for your predicament, but I'm a workin' man; I got problems of my own.” He turned to leave.

Star almost called out to him, prepared to beg, but Rains Fall beat her in both time and motivation. “We will pay you very handsomely, Mr. Morgan.”

Arthur paused, then turned and came back. “How much?”

Eagle Flies sneered, “I told you they're all mercenaries.”

The snort that came out of Arthur was filled with irony. “There's a price on my head in two states, my friend. The government doesn't like me any more than it does you. Like you, I been runnin' for as long as I can remember, and like you... my time here is nigh on done.”

Rains Fall nodded. “We understand, and we will pay. You meet my son in a week near Citadel Rock, just went of the oil fields.”

“Ok.”

“We are very grateful for your help.”

Arthur nodded, eyes slipping between all present – lingering on Star. She avoided his gaze, knowing she would get an earful later.

“Gentlemen,” Miller cut in gently, “our meeting with the senator is soon. We should head over there.”

“This is a waste of time,” Eagle Flies replied. “And his.”

“No, we must try everything,” his father replied. “Come along.”

As Arthur headed back to his horse and the rest moved down the street, the door they had been lingering at opened, and a man stuck his head out. “Mr. Miller! The councilor wants to apologize. He can see you now.”

“We've been waiting... I don't know how long!” the author replied.

“Or next month, if you'd like to reschedule.”

Miller seemed to deflate slightly. “Come, friends. Perhaps the senator won't mind waiting.”

Star followed the others through the doorway, throwing a glance over her shoulder at Arthur who was across the street watching her. She gave an apologetic shrug, and then the door shut.

An hour was spent in the councilor's office as Miller pontificated about the plight of the Wapiti and Rains Fall made his pleas. The councilor barely seemed to be awake, let alone listening to a thing they were saying, and when they left the office, Star felt ready to murder someone. Miller admitted that the meeting could have gone better, but was ready to hurry off to the Senator to try again.

Star made her apologies and prepared to part ways with them, though Eagle Flies chuckled darkly and said, “I don't blame you. It's a crime to waste one's time like this.”

“It's not that,” she replied quietly. “It's just that I don't trust myself not to strangle the next man who treats your father so disrespectfully.”

He laughed again and pat her shoulder. “Go on, then. Can't have you arrested on our behalf. If you're up to it, meet me at Citadel Rock as well. An extra gun can never go amiss.”

“I might do just that. Good luck.”

She crossed the street, leaving them to hurry off. Rhiannon waited patiently for her, nickering slightly at her approach. “I don't know, girl,” Star whispered, rubbing her nose. “This could get ugly.”

Star arrived back in camp before Arthur, but as soon as she saw his buckskin Standardbred through the trees, she tried to make herself scarce. Of course, as soon as he saw her, he made a beeline in her direction, taking her arm and leading her to the back of the property by the run-down boathouse.

“What in the  _hell_  are you up to with those Wapiti? Do they know you're a part of a gang? What's goin' on?”

Star held up her hands to calm him. “Eagle Flies is the man who saved me from the army. He and his braves attacked the camp in retribution for the deaths of the Lakota I had been traveling with. We ran into each other at the party the other night, and he asked me to meet them. He knows I've fallen in with a gang, but his father does not. Honestly, I don't think they would have a problem with it, but I didn't know what to do.”

“Yeah, well... me neither.”

“Eagle Flies asked me to come to Citadel Rock. I say we just go together and tell him the truth. You get the papers they need, and you'll be done.”

“What about you?”

“I... I don't know, Arthur. I can't just sit back and watch the Wapiti be treated like this. They may not be my tribe, but... we all went through the same thing. Bullied off our land, murdered when we didn't comply, forced to live off government assistance. I was too young to fight back when it was done to my people. I cannot do nothing as it happens again.”

Arthur sighed and nodded. “Yeah, I get it. It ain't right, what's bein' done to 'em, but... don't you think we got enough problems with the gang right now?”

“Maybe. It just occurred to me when I saw Eagle Flies at the party that I haven't thought about anything outside of this gang for months now, and whether we like it or not, there is a world outside of this. We live in it, unfortunately. If I do not follow my conscience on this, then everything I fight for with this gang means nothing.”

It took a moment, but Arthur finally relented. “Alright. Just... be careful out there, Star. I don't wanna lose you, and when it ain't gang business, I can't protect ya the same way.”

Star hadn't realized that Arthur's concern came from a place of affection for her, and the admittance of that made her heart squeeze tightly. “Thank you, Arthur. Really.”

He nodded, putting a big, rough hand on her shoulder. “It ain't just Charles that gained a little sister when you showed up. We all kinda did. Just don't want ya to get hurt is all.”

Love bubbled up into Star's chest, and she practically hurled herself at Arthur, latching her arms around his middle. He stood, frozen in surprise for a moment, then gently wrapped her up in his burly frame. While it had never crossed her mind that she might one day call a white man family, it certainly didn't ruffle her feathers to do so now.

“Go on, now,” Arthur murmured, shooing her away. “I've got a couple things to deal with before we can head to the Heartlands, but I'll come find ya when I'm ready.”

“What's on your list?”

He shook his head. “Some hair-brained idea of Trelawney's. We're robbin' a river boat tomorrow night.”

She laughed and turned to go. “I don't really know what that entails, but I wish you luck.”

“Thanks.” He turned to go, then turned back and called, “Oh, hey, you seen Kieran lately?”

Star paused, running through the last few days in her mind. “No, actually. Why?”

“Might be nothin'. Few people just ain't seen him for a couple days.”

“Did he go fishing?”

“Maybe. He'll turn up. Just wanted to ask.”

“Sure.”

They part ways, though Star felt uneasy. The last time she could remember seeing Kieran had been the day before the party, but to be fair, she had not been in camp a whole lot since then, and the one day she was she'd been holed up with Bill. It was probably nothing, but the point had been made several times over the last couple days: the gang was her family. If she didn't worry, what kind of sister was she?


	17. Chapter 17

One day passed, and then another without Kieran showing back up in camp. Star didn't like it one bit. Any trail he might have left was long gone by that point, and without knowing which direction he'd left in, there was no use going out and trying to find one. Bill watched Star fidget and pace, but he never said a word. They would have fallen on deaf ears anyway.

It was ultimate Sadie who took Star by the shoulders late one afternoon and sat her down. “Now, you frettin' all over this camp ain't gonna bring that boy back any sooner. He's grown. He'll come back when he's good and ready. Now you just settle yourself down.”

The stern, motherly talking to was enough to force Star to calm down a bit. Sadie was right, of course. There was nothing she could do, and it was a waste of energy to think otherwise. To distract herself, she went and found Javier to ask about the riverboat job.

The man laughed and pat the log next to him. “It is quite a tale, amiga. Let me see if I can get Arthur to say señor the way he did that night.”

The cowboy refused, blushing and waving off a giggling Javier as he walked away to speak with Dutch. Star watched him go, grinning. “So, what? Then you all just leaped from the boat into the water? Strauss too?”

“That is exactly what we did. We had what we came for, and any other method of escape was either too slow or too obvious, and they were already onto us.”

“Jesus. When Arthur said it was a hair-brained idea, I didn't realize he wasn't exaggerating.”

“With Josiah Trelawney, there is never too much exaggerating.” He laughed quietly to himself, then changed the subject. “Ey, tell me something. You and Bill. This is a... permanent arrangement?”

“I... well, I don't know about permanent, but I don't foresee an end currently. Why do you ask?”

He shrugged. “I've just been thinking. When I first met the man, he curled up his nose at me. Called me greaser and other names – mostly whatever poorly formed insult he could come up with at the time. He doesn't do this anymore. Not to me or Charles or Lenny or Tilly. I admit wondering what it is you did to him. He treated you just as badly when you arrived, and yet...”

“I know.” Star sighed and looked at the ground. “He treated others badly to feel better about himself. You see how people treat him. He might act big and tough, but it hurts him to be so demeaned, and he took out that hurt on those around him – those he had been taught were less than. I simply told him that what he was taught is wrong, and that he is worthy of love in his own right. It took time, but... once he realized I was not trying to fool him, he really listened. Deep down, he wants to please and be accepted.”

Javier nodded a bit. “I noticed once that the worst of his words came when he was drunk. I thought that interesting.”

“Hm. True. I believe the alcohol was a double-edged sword. It helped him escape that which he did not wish to face, but it also heightened his vulnerabilities. I don't know what demons whispered in his head, but they were very unkind. To drown them out, he yelled unkind things at others instead. Perhaps he meant them at the time, I don't know. But... the demons seem quieter now, and he does not lash out so much. When he does, it is at those who deserve it. Does this make sense?”

“It does to me.” Javier smiled. “You read the man like a book, then ripped out the pages and made him start writing it all over again.”

“That is an interesting metaphor. But I suppose you're right. He...”

“Dios mio!”

Javier cut across her, staring over her shoulder in abject horror. A scream ripped through the air of the camp, followed by chilling words. “ _It's Kieran!_ ”

Star stood and spun, unable for a moment to reconcile reality with what she was looking at. Kieran's headless body sat atop a horse that wasn't his, and his missing head rested in his hands. His eyes had been gouged out and left open so that deep, bloody caverns stared back at her. The raw stump atop his shoulders still oozed slightly which meant that the wound was recent. It couldn't have been more than an hour since his head had been removed. Which meant that he couldn't have been far. If they'd been paying attention, maybe they could have heard him scream.

“Everybody take cover!” Dutch roared from the balcony of the house as gunshots started ringing. “O'Driscoll boys comin' in!”

Star didn't hear him. She just kept standing there, staring. Even after the horse had reared and run, leaving Kieran's body in a heap on the ground, she couldn't tear her eyes from the spot. “Get down, Star!” Javier shouted, grabbing her by the shirt and dragging her behind one of the defenses that the Raiders had left behind.

It took Star a long moment to get her bearings and realize that they were under attack. O'Driscolls. Dutch had said O'Driscolls. Like Kieran used to be. They took him. They tortured him. They killed him.

The war cry that tore from her throat as she drew her hatchet and leaped over the battlements hearkened back to a day long past. She channeled a rage in that moment that seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere. This is how she fought for her family.

Between her hatchet and her pistol, several men fell, but that did not make her impervious to bullets. One cut through her upper arm, but between the adrenaline and the anger, she barely felt it. Swift feet carried her from man to man. She was vaguely aware of her fellows yelling at her to get inside the house, but there weren't any O'Driscolls in the house.

Finally, Charles' large hand closed around her arm and pulled her away as she roared and fired off shots into the trees. As they neared the house, however, a scream came from out back, and Arthur called, “That's Sadie! I gotta go help her. Cover me!”

It was enough of a distraction to slacken Charles' grip, and Star broke free, barreling around the house and diving on the first man she saw. By the time her hatchet stopped falling, his head was removed from his body, and she was on to the next.

The last man she tackled to the ground before the O'Driscolls retreated felt her knife at his throat as she hoarsely whispered in his ear, “Lé mitháwa thiwáhe. This is my family. See how the Lakota protect and avenge their family.”

Her well-maintained knife bit into his skin and sliced like butter while he gurgled and jerked in her grip. In his last moments, that knife moved to his hairline and ripped backwards, removing a long strip of dark hair. She gripped it in her hand, and shouted her victory at the backs of the retreating men.

“Cowards!” Dutch yelled.

Hosea came out of the house, followed slowly by others. “We ok?”

“I think so. Except for Kieran here. Poor kid. Mr. Swanson, will you take this boy and bury him? Someplace near, but... not too near.”

“Of course,” the reverend replied. “Charles, help me with the body.”

“We need to get this place cleaned up,” Hosea called. Mr. Pearson! Ms. Grimshaw!”

“Already taking care of it!” the woman called back.

Star stood on the edge of the property, still clutching the scalp of the man her feet. She was covered in blood again, but this time it did not call up bad memories. At least... not for her.

When she turned around to come back, she saw Bill standing by the gazebo, staring at her. His eyes had glassed over slightly, and he didn't seem entirely able to move. Given the position of his body, he seemed to have been stuck that way for some time. His gun was still pointed at the trees.

“Williamson, move your ass and help!” Hosea snapped.

Star immediately snarled, “Leave him alone!” Her instinct was to run to him and usher him away, but she knew that she was the cause of his current state. To do so would be to invite disaster. “He... he needs... take him somewhere quiet. Away from... away from me. Someone.”

Arthur was the only one to react, going to Bill's side and gently taking his rifle from him. “Come on, big man. Let's go cool off.”

Bill relinquished the gun almost as if he had no control over his limbs. He followed Arthur's hand on his shoulder without question, eyes just staring out in front of him. Star couldn't imagine what horrors were replaying in his mind, and every part of her felt remorse for having triggered them. Still, she could not take back her actions and would not anyway. The O'Driscolls hopefully learned a lesson about messing with the Van Der Linde Gang that day.

Though she knew it was tradition to keep the scalps of enemies, Star let it fall into the grass. Keeping it would only serve to cause Bill more problems, and she had made her point. Instead, she made her way to the water to wash her face and hands. After helping Reverend Swanson, Charles fell into step with her.

“You ok?”

“I'm fine. Well... I'm not fine. But if you're asking me if I'm going to have a breakdown like I did at Clemens Point, the answer is no.”

“I see.”

They walked in silence to the water, then knelt and washes themselves as clean as they could get without properly bathing. Star sighed and leaned on the backs of her legs. “Will you go check on Bill please? My actions have caused great distress. I didn't even think about it. I just... reacted.”

“Sure.” Charles stood, but paused. “He'll be alright. You'll work through it.”

“I know. But it's best if I keep my distance for a while. Just tell him... tell him I'm sorry.”

“I will.”

With that, Charles left her. She knelt by the water a while longer, then noticed an alligator on the opposite bank, watching her. “Fuck off, you beast,” she murmured, splashing water at it and getting up to leave.

Knowing well that her presence in camp might just be a source of trouble that the gang did not need, Star gathered up her things, mounted Rhiannon, and rode out. She wasn't really sure where she was going, but space was needed, so space she would give.

As she rode, she realized that she and Arthur were meant to be meeting with Eagle Flies in a few days anyway, so she made the decision to head up to the Heartlands and wait for them both at Citadel Rock. It would give her time to be alone and think.

The ride north went without issue. She traveled through the night and arrived at her destination not too long after sunrise. Once she set up a small camp, she finally took a moment to simply collapse on the ground. The tension she'd been subconsciously holding in her body had locked up every muscle, and when she finally gave them leave to relax, they ached.

That tension had also been holding in her grief, so a quiet sob accompanied her exhale. She didn't implode quite as much as she had over Sean, but the pain of knowing that Kieran had been in trouble the whole time and no one had helped him was overwhelming. She kept imagining his frightened, bruised face as they tried to beat the location of camp out of him. Perhaps he'd broken and told them, or perhaps they had already known and just wanted to see if they could break him. Either way, she gave no blame to him.

Once she had run through all the scenarios of Kieran's murder, her mind turned to Bill and his vacant expression after the fight. She'd seen him go white at her actions before, but he'd never just... disappeared from his body like that. She couldn't blame him. Just knowing the story about the night his previous lover had been killed was enough to know some of the things he had seen. Every action she had taken would have been a reminder he did not need. She cried for him too, knowing how much she had inadvertently hurt him.

The tears led to exhaustion, and she ended up sleeping the afternoon away. Her growling stomach woke her after nightfall. She settled for some salted beef, deciding to hunt the next day and instead enjoy the stars while she patched up her wounded arm. The sky was clear and cool, and she caught sight of many falling stars that streaked over the canvas above her. In her heart, she wished Bill was with her.

On the appointed meeting day, as luck would have it, Arthur showed up first. He gave a wave as he dismounted and led his horse to Star's camp. “Thought I might find you here.”

“Sorry I didn't tell you.”

“It's alright. I knew why you didn't.”

“How is he?”

“Better. Worried about you.”

“Me?” she snorted. “Of the two of us, I came out mostly unscathed.”

“Yeah, but... well, he knows you probably feel bad and all. Kept sayin' he didn't mean to space out like that. Couldn't help it none.”

“I know. But it's something to think about, isn't it? If I can cause something so terrible in him... maybe...” Her throat constricted, making the next few words very hard to say. “Maybe I shouldn't be with him.”

“That's shit, and you know it. You two been through a lot'a pain and memories together, and you always come out the other side. Just talk to him. That's all I'm sayin'. Before you make any decisions, just talk to him.”

“Reasonable enough request.” She sighed and stood, turning her gaze to the oil fields on the plain below. “Won't be easy getting in there. Or getting out.”

“Ain't nothin' been easy in a long time,” Arthur chuckled.

“True.”

Before long, Eagle Flies rode up the path to them. “You came!” he called.

“Said I would, didn't I?” Arthur replied with a wave.

The Wapiti man hopped down from his horse and came to stand with them on the ledge. “Now, Star, is there another game you're playing, pretending to be something you are not, or can you properly introduce me to your friend?”

Star laughed and nudged Arthur. “I told you he knew. We're not very good at subterfuge.”

“Never claimed to be,” he answered with a smile.

“Arthur is one of the members of the gang I fell in with. We were not expecting to see each other that day on High Street, so we panicked and pretended we didn't know each other. In any case, he's a good man, and I trust him.”

“I see.” Eagle Flies nodded. “Well, if you trust this man, then so shall I. I've been doing some scouting in the last few days. There is a foreman named Danbury. He keeps the files we need locked up in his office, above the refinery room.” Arthur pulled out his binoculars, and Eagle Flies pointed. “There. It's the window with the shade pulled up.”

“I see it.”

“If the files are as incriminating as we believe, Mr. Conwall's men will destroy them if they know you're coming.”

Arthur nodded. “Well, there's only one of me, son. I don't intend for them to know I'm comin'. What will the files say?”

“They will be a report from the Leland Oil Development Company.”

“You got the money your daddy promised me?”

Eagle Flies sighed, giving a sidelong glance at Star. “Yes.”

“Any ideas how I sneak into this place?”

“You could crawl under the fence, or hide in one of those wagons that keep rolling in.”

With a nod and a deep breath, Arthur put away his binoculars. “I'll go take a look.”

“If there is problem, call for us.”

“I thought the whole point was that this had nothin' to do with you!” he called over his shoulder as he made his way down the hill.

“Ideally.”

Star crouched with Eagle Flies on the ledge, watching as Arthur crept onto a wagon that eventually rolled through the gates to the refinery and out of sight. Anxiety left Star tense and breathing shallowly which Eagle Flies noticed.

“You say you trust this man, but you seem very worried.”

“It's not lack of confidence in him that causes me distress. Just his safety. We were recently attacked by a rival gang. They captured and killed one of our own. My heart still aches from the loss. I could not bear another.”

“Ah.” He paused a moment before looking back at her. “You speak highly of this gang. They... treat you well?”

“They do. Very well. I have not been treated so well by white people anywhere else.”

“What about the man at the party? The one who hit you?”

Star smiled softly. “He... is a complicated man, but he now treats me best of all. It took time and effort. But it's true.”

The man at her side squinted slightly in suspicion. “You and this man have found love, haven't you?”

“Yes. We have.”

“Fascinating.”

“You don't know the half of it,” she chuckled.

Gunshots echoed across the plain, coming from the refinery. Star nearly fell off the ledge in her haste to stand. “We have to help him!”

Eagle Flies stood as well, casting his gaze wider. “Look there. The oil pump. Let's blow it. Should be a proper distraction to give your friend time to escape.”

They mounted up and flew down the hill, taking a roundabout way to the pump that was on the other side of the field. Star whistled for Arthur's horse, and he came running along behind her, eyes wide.

The two natives sped in, and Eagle Flies sent a flaming arrow into the tower which immediately caught on the oil and spread until the pressure was too much and the pump exploded. The workers were thrown into chaos. Star rode into the mess, using her bow as well to make less noise and thus be less of a target.

When Arthur came running out of the darkness in her direction, she sighed in relief. “Did you get the files?”

“Yeah!” he called, leaping onto his horse. “But we need to get the hell outta here!”

“Follow me!” Eagle Flies yelled over the din.

The two raced to join him, fending off the few men that managed to try and fight back as they fled. They thundered across the plain, away from the refinery and into the growing darkness of the night.

“That explosion came just in time!” Arthur called.

Eagle Flies smiled. “I was happy to watch some of that oil burn. Did you meet Mr. Danbury?”

“Yes, don't worry. He was very obliging.”

They pulled to a stop to rest, and Arthur climbed off his horse. “I thought you two wasn't gonna get involved.”

“I thought you were going to enter and leave silently,” Eagle Flies retorted with a smirk.

Arthur grinned and held out the papers. “Well, thank you. You saved my life.”

Eagle Flies looked over the paperwork. “Thank you. I hope... well... I don't know what I hope. Maybe these will be of some use to us. Here's your money.” Arthur took it with a grateful nod. “Star, if you have need of us, my father and I will be returning to our village soon. Do you remember where it is?”

“Donner Falls?”

“Yes. If we would like to find you... how would we do so?”

Star glanced at Arthur, then replied, “We move around a lot. Send a letter to Tacitus Kilgore – to any post office. It may not be timely, but it is the best way.”

“Understood. Strange. But understood. Be careful out there.”

“And you as well. Goodbye.”

With that, Eagle Flies waved and rode off.

Star turned to Arthur, joining him on the ground. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“Agreeing to help them. Even if you did get paid. Many wouldn't help a native, money or no money.”

“Don't matter to me what color someone is. You know that.”

“I do,” she agreed with a smile. “But it's nice to see it in practice.”

He smiled too. “Come on. Let's get back to camp. I'll catch you up on the trolley incident.”

“Oh dear god.”


	18. Chapter 18

The trolley incident, as Arthur had referred to it, only gave Star more reason to remain uneasy about the course of the gang. Apparently Angelo Bronte had lied to Dutch as well as set him up, causing a lot of chaos and police deaths in the process. There was scarce money to be stolen at the trolley station, and Dutch had taken a bit of a blow to the head in the escape. None of it was good news.

“So... what's the plan, then?”

“Dutch said somethin' 'bout the bank, but that's gonna take some more legwork before we're ready to hit it.”

“He still wants to? Even after all of that? Shouldn't we just go?”

Arthur sighed heavily and shrugged. “I don't know what we should do. I thought we were only stayin' in Lemoyne to get Jack back, but... now he's talkin' about Tahiti and Australia like we got any kind of idea how to make a life there. He says mango farmers, but I ain't even seen a mango before.”

A laugh skittered out of Star. “Me either. Wouldn't know a thing about farming them.”

“Exactly. I don't mean to sound doubtful, but I just can't see his endgame like I used to.”

“Arthur... I'm...”

_I'm worried_ , she wanted to say. She wanted to explain her fears and doubts and hopes and desires, but all of it just felt so pointless – so unsure. Dutch had been muttering more about doubters of late, and she didn't want to fall into that category.

When Star didn't finish her thought, Arthur looked over at her, taking in her thoughtful frown. “I know, Star. I know.”

They got back to camp around mid-morning, calling out a greeting to Charles who stood guard. “Good to see you back,” the burly man replied with a nod.

Star hitched her mare and removed the saddle before heading into the heart of camp. She knew that she had to seek out Bill, but a part of her was fearful of the conversation they would have. Instead, she went to find Dutch first, as she was worried about him.

The dark-haired man was sitting up on the second floor balcony, a book in hand. Star jogged up the stairs and quietly exited out the double doors. Dutch looked up when they creaked, but he smiled when he saw her. “Ah, the warrior returns. We've missed you the last few days.”

His words made her smile. “I'm sorry for the mess I made.”

“What mess? All I saw was a woman gaining her rightful vengeance for wrongs done to her and those she cared for. Somethin' I can admire, and admittedly feel a kinship with right now.”

“Arthur told me about Bronte and the trolley station.”

Dutch snorted in disdain. “Then you understand.” He put his book down and pat the chair next to his. Star took his invitation and sat. “That snake of a man has harmed us for the last time.”

“Do you intend to pay him another visit?”

“It is... up for consideration, though Hosea is being obstinate. The way I see it, he runs this town, and as long as he's still in it, we ain't got a chance in hell to rob that bank.”

“Do... do we  _have_  to rob the bank?”

He shot her a sharp glance. “Do you want to get away from them that's on our tail and live out the rest of your years peaceably in an island paradise?”

The tone of his voice made her shrink into herself slightly. “I suppose.”

“Then, yes. We  _have_  to rob the bank.”

Something had soured between them, and Star, for whatever reason, felt the insatiable need to make it right again. If nothing else, she understood Bill's compulsion to make Dutch proud of him. “Arthur said you hit your head. Has anyone looked at it?”

“Ms. Grimshaw gave it a look when we got back. I'm fine.”

Her lips pursed. “May I look?”

For a moment, Dutch seemed suspicious, but it faded into soft appreciation. “Suppose another input wouldn't hurt none.”

Star stood and moved behind him, gently taking his hat and hanging it off the back of her vacated chair. She ran her fingers softly through his dark locks, shaking them loose enough to be manipulated out of her way. “Where did you hit?”

Dutch pointed to the top of his head, just where his hairline met his forehead. “The worst of it was here, but my whole head has been hurtin'.”

Slender fingers shifted his hair away from the area he'd pointed to, revealing a large, ugly bruise on his scalp. They prodded carefully, earning a hiss of pain from him. “Sorry. Do you know what you hit it on?”

“No idea. We crashed a trolley, and things went flyin'. Ain't no knowin' what clobbered me.”

“Hmm.” She didn't like the look of the bruise, or the fact that his whole head hurt him, but she didn't know enough of her people's medicine to make any affirmative statements. “I know some plants that help with pain. I can make you a tea that will ease it and help you sleep.”

“You mean drinkin' alcohol 'til I black out isn't exactly the most healthy sleep method?” he joked, looking up at her with a smile.

She smiled back. “Not exactly.”

Just then, the floorboards of the house creaked, announcing the presence of another. Both pairs of brown eyes locked onto tearful, angry green ones. Molly's bright red hair whipped around as she stormed out of the room. Dutch sighed heavily, leaning forward until his elbows were on his knees. Star stood slightly frozen, hands still hovering in the air where his head had been.

“Don't mind her,” Dutch commented wearily. “Can't do nothin' to please her these days.”

“I didn't mean... if I gave the wrong impression...”

“You did nothin' of the kind. She's a jealous creature who can't see past her own damn nose.” He rubbed his eyes, then stood, grabbing up his hat and placing it back on his head. “I'll take that tea of yours. Thank you.”

“Sure. I care about this gang, and that means you too.”

He smiled. “Good day, madam.”

As Dutch left, Star turned to look out over the camp. It had mostly returned to normal, though there was noticeably less organization around the horses and their gear. It hadn't occurred to her when she left that there wasn't anyone else to look after them. Not with Kieran gone.

She sniffled slightly, turning her gaze elsewhere. It finally landed on blue and white plaid leaned up against one of the trees off to the right of the gazebo. It seemed that she was not the only one doing the watching. With a deep, steadying breath, she turned to head out and join Bill beneath the tree. Come what may.

He was still leaning on the tree when she got there, and remained that way for a moment. “Howdy, stranger,” he murmured on her arrival. “What brings you to these parts?”

She chuckled quietly, wrapping her arms around herself. “Hi, Bill.”

He smiled, picking himself up off the tree to go to her and pull her into his arms. It wasn't what she expected, but she relaxed into him despite the surprise. Her fingers slid around his sides to his back where they twisted up in his plaid shirt. She rested her head against his chest, and he put his chin atop it. “I'm so sorry,” she whispered.

“I know. Ain't yer fault. You was just bein' you.”

“A very violent version of me.”

“Don't make no difference. We live a violent life. Besides, I knew you was good friends with Kieran. If you'd held back on my account... well, it just wouldn't've been right.”

She sighed and shifted her head to look at him. “Still. I do not want to hurt you. If all I do is cause episodes like that one, then it would be better if you stayed away from me.”

He seemed to not have expected that response, given the shock in his expression. “You...you think I'd be better off  _without_  you?”

“Maybe. I am a living memory of your pain. You should not be subjected to that every day.”

He gaped at her, then shook his head quickly. “No. That's not...”

“Think about it. You have to see...”

“Shut the hell up and listen to me,” he snapped abruptly. “You think too god damn much.”

He pulled back from her slightly, so her arms fell back to her sides as she stood in baffled silence. “Dunno if you forgot, but I ain't the only one in this relationship with nightmares, am I? You remember who caused yours? People like me. But you stayed. I-I-I treated you like shit, but you fuckin' stayed. And now you want me to leave you 'cause of some... waking nightmare bullshit that can't either of us control? You think that caused me anywhere near the pain I know I caused you? Gettin' told you're trash just 'cause of the color of your skin. Treated like a-a-a damn animal 'cause somebody decided you was less than.”

The more he talked, the more animated he became. His hands gestured wildly, pointing to her and himself and all over. She stood back a little farther, shaken by the vehemence of his speech.

“I asked about you first thing when I came out of it, 'cause I knew you was gonna blame yourself, and-and hell... in the past I would'a blamed you too, but I been thinkin' 'bout this for a long damn time. You and me... we got so much shit, and maybe we ain't supposed to be together – maybe some sane person would look at us and ask why we do this to ourselves, but I... I can't think of nothin' else to do. You're tellin' me that I should leave ya, and all I want...  _all I want_  is to wake up next to you every day until the day I finally fuckin' die. My nightmares ain't anything new, and I-I-I would much rather have you here when they're over than face 'em alone.  _You saved me_. From... from myself and the world and my own stupidity. And I didn't deserve a bit of it.”

He was out of breath and red in the face at this point. It was the most impassioned thing she had ever heard come out of his mouth, and she couldn't decide if she was touched or frightened by the fervor. Still, her heart swelled with love despite her worries and fears, and to know that this incident had done nothing but strengthen his resolve was some sort of dream she had never dared hope for. Maybe neither of them were in their right mind, but at that point, who cared?

After taking a few breaths to calm down, Bill reached into his pocket, pulling out something small that he kept closed in his fist. “I... this ain't somethin' I ever thought I'd care about, but it's been naggin' me for weeks. You probably don't care neither seein' as how you ain't one for churchy shit, but... well, if I don't ask it's gonna drive me insane.”

He held out his hand and opened it. Sitting in the palm was a small silver band, glistening in the sun. Star looked at it, not entirely realizing its significance until he spoke again. “Would you... would you marry me?”

Many things flooded through Star's mind, and deciding which of those things to express was nearly impossible. Finally, after what had to have been an agonizingly long time for Bill, she spoke. “Before Christianity invaded, the Lakota had a much more fluid idea of marriage. Gifts were given, and if those gifts were accepted, then it was decided. The groom's mother would make a lodge for the pair, and when it was complete, there would be a night of festivities. At the end of the night, the couple would move into their lodge and... that was it. They were married.”

She paused and pointed at their little tent amid the rest of the tents and wagons. “That's our lodge. It might have lacked some decorum, but... I married you a long time ago.” Tears burned behind her eyes as she reached out and took the ring from his hand, slipping it onto her left ring finger. “If you also want to do it the Christian way, I don't mind.”

He abruptly closed the distance between them, taking her face in his hands. “You mean I could'a been callin' you my wife all this time, and you didn't even tell me?”

She laughed, freeing the tears to slip down her cheeks, only to be wiped away by his thumbs. “Like you said, didn't think you'd care. Didn't think I'd care either, but since you asked...”

The kiss he wrapped her up into was full of a sort of desperation. It was hard to put a finger on what kind, but every single bit of the act radiated joy. He wrapped both arms around her waist and lifted her up, causing her to giggle and put both arms around his neck to steady herself. She left kisses on his nose and his cheeks and his forehead before simply leaning her head against his. They might have stayed that way all day.

“See you two worked everything out,” Arthur called, coming to join them.

Bill sat Star down, then picked up her left hand and waved it at him. “She said yes!”

“Aw yeah? Congratulations, Bill.”

Star pulled her hand to her chest, eyeing Arthur suspiciously. “You knew, didn't you? That's why you wanted to make sure I talked to him!”

A guilty smile spread over Arthur's face, and he looked at his feet. “Yeah. He told me not too long after comin' outta that episode he had. You ain't mad, are ya?”

A sly smile pulled one corner of Star's mouth higher than the other. She went to him and put a hand to his cheek, pulling him down so that she could place a kiss on the other cheek. “Thanks, Arthur.” With that, she walked away, twisting the ring around her finger as she went.

….

It took a couple days, but soon the decision was made to  _visit_  Bronte in his big house. The purpose of this visit seemed muddled. Dutch insisted that it was business – clearing the path to rob the bank, but Hosea and even Arthur worried that it smacked too much of revenge.

After Dutch and Arthur secured transport to Bronte's property across the swamp, the crew was picked. Lenny, John, and Bill would be joining the two in their assault, the ends of which were apparently to be determined as they went along.

Star walked Bill to his horse as they prepared to leave, keeping her mouth decidedly shut about her concerns. Perhaps they would all be for nothing. Still, he noticed her demeanor and saw fit to ask after it. “You seem real quiet. What's got you worried?”

“Nothing,” she replied quickly, then paused and added, “Everything. It doesn't matter. Just go and do, and we'll deal with it when you're done.”

He frowned, obviously getting slightly lost in the double speak and misdirection. “You sure?”

“Yeah. Don't worry about me. Just keep your head down. If Bronte really does have the cops in his pocket, then there's likely to be a lot of law. Call me crazy, but I'm not exactly interested in watching you swing.”

He smiled a bit. “You'd come get me out. I know you would.”

His confidence broke her down into a smile as well. “Yeah, well, maybe I would. Depends on what you were doing when you got caught. If it's dumb enough, I might let you rot.”

“You joke,” he replied, swing up onto Brown Jack, “but I know you. You'd be beside yourself. If you scalped a fella over Kieran, I don't even wanna imagine what you'd do over me.”

He made a compelling point, and all Star could do was laugh. “Just be careful!” she called after him as they rode out. He waved, and then they disappeared through the trees.

Charles had watched the exchange from a distance and joined Star with a soft smile on his lips. “Would you really leave him in jail?”

Star sighed, placing her hands on her hips. “I'd burn the whole city down before letting him hang.”

“Do you intend to follow through with a Christian wedding?”

She shrugged. “If he wants to, but he seemed content with the Lakota way for now. Maybe when things settle down we'll get around to it.”

The air in the camp was tense while the men were gone. Hosea was in a foul mood and everyone knew it which only made everyone else even more on edge. It wasn't like him and Dutch to disagree quite so much on the course of things. Even Star, who had only been with them a few months, could see that. She wanted to ask the old man about it, but she also didn't want to go anywhere near him for fear of inciting his anger accidentally. Instead, she spent most of her time with the horses. However, when darkness fell, she joined a few people around one of the fires.

One of those people was Mary-Beth, and she scooted close to Star to ask, “Can I see your ring?”

Star held out her left hand, and Mary-Beth took it. The young woman's hands were soft and gentle, treating Star's hand as an object of worship. “It's so pretty,” she whispered with a smile. “Silver works perfectly for you. Do you know where he got it?”

“Stole it, most likely,” Star chuckled. “Not that I blame him. Frugality is nothing to sneeze at.”

Mary-Beth giggled. “True. I never thought Bill would be the type to marry. Too... rough. But you brought out a side of him none of us expected. Who'd have thought there was a romantic under all that bluster and brawn?”

“Well, certainly not me.”

They laughed together until a voice dripping in venom cut in, “Ah, the sound of lady's laughter. Music in the night.”

Micah sat uncomfortably close to Mary-Beth, smiling in a way that made Star's skin crawl. “Mr. Bell,” Mary-Beth greeted politely, ever so slightly scooting closer to her female companion.

“Miss Gaskill.  _Mrs. Williamson_.” He snickered around the title. “Think they'll let you put Star on the marriage certificate? Or are they gonna force you to take a white name?”

“Star is my white name, you cretin,” she spat back. “A nice simple word for slow, ignorant tongues.”

“Oh, but my tongue is neither,” he crooned, waggling it suggestively. “Maybe I'll show you sometime.”

“Only if you fancy losing it.”

Mary-Beth's eyes darted back and forth between the two, and her face had gone pale. Micah leaned forward, across Mary-Beth, to get close to Star. “Now, I recall informing you that threatenin' me was a mistake,  _Mrs. Williamson_.”

“That's funny,  _Mr. Bell_ , as I don't recall giving a shit.”

He huffed a condescending laugh. “You should learn some respect, girl.”

“Go ahead and teach me, snake!”

She shoved him, jostling Mary-Beth in the process. Micah reared back, then leapt to his feet, eyes flashing. Star joined him, squaring up for a fight, but then another voice cut in. “Problem here?”

Javier meandered into the firelight casually, deep brown eyes taking in the stances of the two standing and Mary-Beth's frightened face.

“Why don't you fuck off back to Mexico, greaser?” Micah snarled.

Javier looked at Star, then back at Micah, and made his way to stand with them. He rolled his right shoulder nonchalantly, seeming to work out a kink, then leaned back and threw a punch with all his weight into Micah's jaw. “Why don't you fuck off back to hell?!”

The ensuing scuffle saw Star and Javier both on top of Micah, beating him with fists. Mary-Beth shrieked and fled as others around the camp became aware of what was happening. Micah's foot caught Star in the throat, sending her backwards onto her ass, gasping for air. He managed to throw Javier off long enough to pull his knife and jump atop Star, pressing the blade into her cheek until blood began to trickle.

“I don't care if you married a white man, fool that he is. You're still just a redskin squaw, and you ain't ever gonna be nothin' different.” His knife slid maliciously across her cheek, flinging droplets of blood into the fire.

“Get off her!”

Charles' booming roar was enough to cause Star's ears to ring. Micah was abruptly removed from her torso, and she was gasping for breath again, one hand holding the cut on her face and the other massaging her throat. There was more shouting and shuffling, but soon Star was being lifted up into Charles' arms and moved across the camp. Javier followed.

When she was sat down again, it was on Charles' bedroll. He sat with her, examining her injuries carefully. Her breath was still ragged and a struggle, but the pain in her throat and chest had started to ease. The deep slice on her face stung and bled, but Charles was gentle in tending to it.

“Does it need stitching?” Javier asked.

“Probably. Would you get me the supplies?”

“Por supuesto. I'll be right back.”

Once they were alone, Charles sighed and rubbed Star's back. “Are you alright?”

She nodded, but didn't say what was on her mind. Outside of the gang, there were many people who felt as Micah did. Attacks, both physical and verbal, would not be uncommon. It made her second guess the ring on her finger. Perhaps it would be better to wear it on a chain around her neck. Something less obvious.

The stitching went quickly and cleanly. Javier and Charles stayed with her through the night, though she never regained her voice enough to thank them. None of them slept. In the morning, Javier brought breakfast over, and they ate in silence. There was a feeling that things needed to be talked about, but also that none of them knew what to say. They had all faced such violence so many times before that words had lost their meaning.

Finally, after some coffee, Star's voice came back enough for her to take Javier's hand and whisper, “Thanks.”

He nodded, clasping her hand with both of his. “Hermana.”

She and Charles spent the rest of the morning together in silence, braiding each others hair. When Dutch and the crew returned, they both paused and looked up. They shared a look and a sigh, knowing just from the bearing of the group that  _something_  had happened. Something that had shaken them. All but Dutch who rode in so assured of his choices that he practically glowed in the morning sun.

Ms. Grimshaw intercepted Arthur and Bill as they came in, murmuring quietly with them. Bill bristled and took a step towards Micah's tent, but Arthur caught his arm and practically dragged him over to where Star and Charles sat. Once his eyes landed on Star, Bill seemed to forget Micah and hurried to her, helping her to her feet so he could examine the cut on her face.

Arthur and Charles spoke softly, discussing the raid and what had happened. “I just don't know, Charles. I ain't... I ain't ever seen him so... unhinged. I mean, feedin' a man to an alligator? Business is business, but that... that was somethin' else.”

“Feels like everyone is losing bits and pieces of themselves around here,” Charles sighed. “We need to get that money and get out of here.”

Bill had yet to speak, and Star was having trouble reading him. He seemed wracked with guilt and anger and worry, yet none of those emotions would form into expression. He just stared at her, breezing a thumb over the stitches. Finally, at long last, “I shoulda been here. He never woulda done somethin' if I was here.”

“I don't know if that's true,” she wheezed, still very hoarse. “He hasn't exactly got much respect for you either.”

“Yeah, well... he can't just... just go around assaulting gang members. I'll... I'll talk to Dutch about it. If Dutch even cares.”

She frowned. “What do you mean?”

Bill shook his head. “Just somethin' Dutch said on our way to Bronte's. Got real... mean about my time in the army. Just makin' fun of me and stuff. I dunno, maybe it was nothin', but... but it didn't sound like him.”

Star swallowed painfully and leaned into Bill. “I'm scared,” she breathed, only loud enough for him to hear. “I don't understand what's happening. Everyone is losing their minds.”

He ran his fingers down her braid, then slid them to the back of her neck. “I know. But... it'll be alright. It will. We've always gotten outta scrapes before. Dutch'll get us out. You'll see.”

“I hope so. But what if he doesn't?”


End file.
